


The Legend of Zelda | Breath of the Wild | Book Three: The Fires of Hyrule

by MattWords



Series: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Breath of the Wild Spoilers, F/M, Fanfiction, Fantasy, Friendship, Gaming, Kingdom of Hyrule, Legend of Zelda References, Love, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Novel, Novelization, Romance, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:34:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MattWords/pseuds/MattWords
Summary: As Ganon's servants extend their dark influence over the land, Link continues his own quest to restore the fallen kingdom. The cost of doing so, however, will test the limits of the even the Hero of Hyrule. This is the third volume of a six-book series based on The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild.
Relationships: Link/Mipha (Legend of Zelda), Link/Paya (Legend of Zelda), Link/Prince Sidon, Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Series: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1155767
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	1. Prologue

The blue-clad Wizzrobe stood a respectful distance from the center of the throne room. He did not fear the bulging sack of Malice hanging from the ceiling, but neither did he want to draw its suspicions. Who knew what Demon King would do if one of His most powerful servants ventured too close to the womb of His rebirth?

Kori had no desire to find out. Risk had never been his forte, not in his mortal life and certainly not now. Unlike the other Lomei, the ice warlock preferred to strike only when assured of victory. Even in such a mean state of reincarnation, he harbored no ambition against the Demon King. As he did with the magic he commanded, he would wait until his quarry was all but paralyzed.

Such had been the Wizzrobe's way even before reaping the benefits of Ganon's favor. When he was a mere mortal, the eldest of the Lomei had pulled the strings of men without the benefit of a throne. The Tabantha and neighboring Hebra Mountains were harsh lands, and Kori had promised their people trade and protection. He kept those promises. The payment for them was unspoken and unnegotiated dependance - a steep fee indeed when the bill came due. Rhoam had nearly been too late to save his own subjects from being taxed dry. Not of money or land, but that which Kori knew was of even more value - freedom.

Now Rhoam was just another dead fool, a twig swallowed in the avalanche of the Demon King's coming. True, His return had been delayed, was still being delayed even now. Even with the magical knowledge bequeathed to him, Kori did not understand how. He knew only that Rhoam's ignorant offspring was the thorn in His Lord's foot. The Wizzrobe fingered his unyielding wand, which was tipped with a sapphire of unequaled quality. Soon, very soon, the girl would break like her father before her. Then his Master would reign with power immeasurable - which meant a small portion could surely be spared for His most faithful servants.

It was for this reason Kori had returned to the bowels of Hyrule Castle - to prove his faithfulness. The Demon King had summoned him, and so he had come. Now he stood in the former seat of Hyrule's power, which was now symbolically home to his Master's imminent return. Everything from the Guardians crawling spider-like over the castle grounds to the unnatural crimson sky hovering only over the fortress itself spoke of the Calamity's gathering strength. Soon, now, it would be unleashed on the pathetic remnants of a shattered kingdom.

The sound of lightly clad feet meeting flagstone seized Kori's attention, though he did not show it. Unlike the red-robed Wizzrobe now entering the Sanctum, Kori was not prone to rash reaction. That did not mean he trusted Kasai. Far from it. If he encountered his brother elsewhere, he would kill him without a thought if possible. That, Kori knew, was why they were bidden to serve in such disparate parts of Hyrule.

Kasai's own wand, alike in every way save the gem at its end was a ruby, immediately flared to life upon seeing his elder brother. Even beneath the folds of his cowl, the Wizzrobe's hate-filled grimace was palpable.

"You would risk slaying me in His presence before our tasks are fulfilled?" Kori coolly asked. "That would be rash, even for you. What failure fans your flames this day, brother?"

The ruby atop Kasai's wand flared brighter for an instant, then winked out. He did not stow it within the folds of his robe, however.

"Tell me, brother," the Red Wizzrobe taunted in a voice sounding of dead leaves, "does it grate you to sit by and watch me claim the opportunity for which you would slay hundreds for yourself?"

Kori's icy calm cracked. His brother's words hit too close to home. The Blue Wizzrobe had been livid to learn the means to ultimate honor - the power and authority of _Karanlik_ \- had chanced near Kasai first. The boy was within easy reach if the Red Wizzrobe, supposedly all but helpless for the taking.

That last thought filled the fissure Kasai's words had opened.

"I never tire of watching you flail about in incompetence," Kori answered flatly, his blue-gloved fingers nonchalantly twirling his wand. "I hear that not only does the boy yet elude you, but a hovel of Hylian refugees still stands against the might of your forces. I am eager to hear the Master's appraisal of your efforts."

"My grip tightens around the boy and his pathetic allies!" Kasai snarled, his wand alight once again. "The Demon King knows this! I will finish the boy long before he gathers enough strength to oppose Him!"

"Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Oh, what a pity to be so horribly wrong!"

This time Kori did wield his wand, its sapphire glowing strongly within the Sanctum's relative gloom. Through the same front doors jauntily stepped a third Wizzrobe, this one clad in voluminous yellow robes and cowl. Kori eyed his youngest brother warily. Only once before had all three of the Lomei been gathered since joining the Demon King, and it was only His presence that had kept them from magically tearing each other apart.

And Denki was perhaps the most dangerous of the three, his mind broken beyond recall after a lifetime of punishment. There were times, however, when the youngest Lomei seemed all too lucid. Now was such a time.

"What do you mean, wretch?" Kasai demanded.

Denki giggled and tossed his wand carelessly into the air before catching it by its topaz-bejeweled end. Kori nearly hissed in vexation. The Yellow Wizzrobe's magic was as unpredictable as the warlock himself.

"Must not see well," Denki observed lightly to his wand as he kept tossing and catching it. "Maybe he needs spectacles. Probably burned his eyes out. Goopy eye goo all over the ground because he couldn't control his-"

"Out with it!" Kasai screamed. Kori kept silent. He was both interested in his brother's news and why their Master had not already interrupted this bickering.

Denki, meanwhile, had paused in the act of playing with his wand. His head was cocked towards his irate brother, his hand held still after having caught his wand wrong-end first. Then the Yellow Wizzrobe took a great breath and sang loudly enough to fill the Sanctum with a grating, sing-songy voice.

"No more raaaaaaain! In Zora's Domaaaaain! The sun shines agaaaaaaain!"

Kori's eyes widened, the content of his brother's crazed message penetrating despite the ridiculous manner in which it was delivered. Unsurprisingly, sheer irritation appeared to have blinded Kasai to its portents.

"You are gibbering," the Red Wizzrobe scathingly observed. "I have heard enough of your mad prattling, fool."

_IT IS YOU WHO IS THE FOOL, LOMEI._

All three Wizzrobes fell to their knees, their cowled heads bowed low toward the circular focus of the throne room. There, made from the same dull scarlet light that now suffused Hyrule Castle, appeared the rapidly changing image of their Master. From enraged boar to austere man to many-limbed nightmare it flickered, each depiction as great and terrible as the last. Kori understood the boar. Even the man was not a complete mystery. The Wizzrobe knew that Ganon had taken on the appearance of a mortal at least once in the great cycle of Hyrule's history. Why He should keep some shadow of that form was unknown, but Kori knew better than to question any choice the Calamity made. The third likeness… Kori was at a loss for what it was and what it meant. He could only discern a skull with gleaming eyes above whatever writhing mass made up its body. The Wizzrobe averted his eyes, unwilling to risk the apparition's direct attention.

Kori was not alone in submissiveness. Even Denki was temporarily sobered by Ganon's presence. But while Kasai knelt in subservience, he did not hold back the heat in his voice.

"What is this, Great Lord?" the Red Wizzrobe asked, the spoken deference only just blunting his otherwise demanding tone. "Have I not served as commanded in the wetlands?"

"You have served and accomplished nothing."

Kori nearly made a rare show of the shock that now seized him. The voice that had spoken came not from the crimson apparition before them, but from the Hylian that had just entered the throne room. The Blue Wizzrobe sneered at the mortal's black-masked face, which was framed by an equally ebony cloak and hood. Whether to keep his identity hidden or drive fear into others, they were at best pale attempts to the true terror inspired by the Demon King's chosen.

 _Unless_ , Kori thought in alarm, _he has been made_ Karanlik.

The thought was fleeting and almost immediately dismissed. This Hylian had sought out Kori some weeks ago, all but promising the honor of Ganon's right hand. Not once had he exhibited any power of his own, save that of grating Kori's normally infinite patience with orders none but the Demon King should be able to give.

Yet here he was now, admonishing his brother in the very presence of their Master. The red apparition shifted from man to boar, but other than that it gave no sign of disapproval over the Hylian's assertion.

Kasai, however, had raised his red-cowled face at the Hylian's brazen appearance. His eyes glowed with the same fiery light that now emanated from his ruby-tipped wand.

"You dare address me thus, Hylian filth?" Kasai furiously rasped.

"I do, and with the Great Lord's blessing," the Hylian casually replied with the slightest of gestures to the ever-shifting spectre behind him. The boar became a skulled, writhing nightmare but otherwise remained a silent, domineering observer. "Be grateful He has deemed your life worth keeping. He may not if you interrupt me again."

Kori heard his red-robed brother's enraged wheezing at the reprimand, but was ultimately disappointed to see Kasai's wand go dark.

"Good," the Hylian said, clearly unsurprised to see his words obeyed. Kori thought it a wonder Kasai kept his temper. As it was, the Red Wizzrobe's hands shook with rage even as the Blue wondered just how much power this newcomer had been granted - and why.

"Now that you are listening," the black-robed Hylian observed with neither care nor concern,  
"we can take stock of your 'accomplishments.' The stable still stands, Vah Ruta is calmed, and after they help the boy escape your paltry excuse for a trap, the Zora will come for you.

Kori's mind raced even as he registered his brother's poorly contained astonishment, visible thanks to the trembling scarlet cowl and robe. The Blue Wizzrobe tried to freeze the river of questions coursing through him, each of them laced with self-serving ambition. Patience would reward him most now, even as his brother reaped the punishment of failure.

"Give me leave to find him, Great Lord!" Kasai pleaded fervently, his face still bowed to the throne room floor as he ignored Ganon's mortal ambassador. "I will track him to the ends of Hyrule to finish the task you have asked of me!"

Kori was sorely tempted laugh. His brother's attempts to preserve his exclusive opportunity at power were pathetic in nature and transparency.

"You will have it."

The Hylian's casual reply turned the Blue Wizzrobe's joy into rage frothing just beneath his icy calm. His hand clenched over the sapphire wand. How could the Demon King reward his brother's inadequacy to such galling lengths?

"Thank you, Great Lord!" Kasai gasped with nauseating relief. "I will not fail you! I will deliver the boy's corpse to the footstool of your throne! I will bathe the castle in his-"

"You will succeed or you will return to the pit whence you were liberated," the ebony-masked Hylian interrupted, again with little care for the blubbering Wizzrobe before him. "Listen well, for this is your last chance, Lomei."

Kori registered Kasai's rattled breath, but he took no satisfaction in his brother's terror. His own blood had chilled at the Hylian's words. To be forced to resume Rhoam's original punishment would drive any of them madder than Denki already was. The Blue Wizzrobe risked a glance at his younger brother, who had not spoken nor outwardly reacted at all during the exchange. Kori wondered how Denki's brilliant yet broken mind was piecing this together toward his own ends.

Kasai, meanwhile, had resumed sniveling, an act made more distasteful in its rasping tones. The Hylian cut him short once more, while the Demon King's visage changed again from the boar to the writhing nightmare.

"The boy goes north," the black-masked man informed them. "You will seal him in Akkala, find him and take him. You will do this while leaving behind enough forces to finish the Hylians and the Zora. The boy seeks to gather allies to him as a midden gathers flies. He and they must be struck down before they gather in strength."

A cold smile bloomed on Kori's cowled face. Kasai was being left to drown in the enormity of a three-pronged task that would bleed him dry. If (and when, the Blue Wizzrobe thought) Kasai failed, he would simply scoop up the prize for himself.

"You two will remain where you are to complete your own tasks - regardless of how your brother fares."

Anger jolted Kori to his core. A glance revealed the maddeningly anonymous Hylian looking directly at him. Behind the mortal, Ganon's visage morphed into the man, which now bore a mocking grin. The Blue Wizzrobe made a vain attempt at blanking his mind, which only made the Hylian's smugness increase.

"Yes, Wizzrobe, the Great Master has entrusted me with your thoughts in His presence," the Hylian confirmed. Kori could almost see the small smile underneath the expressionless mask. "Let it serve as a reminder of His omniscience - and of my responsibility to him. Should you forget either, the punishment would be… severe."

Before Kori could so much as acknowledge the Hylian's warning, his mind was seized with a vision he knew well. Walls of limestone enclosed about him, soaring to unfathomable heights until only narrow slits of the sky could be seen. The enormous corridor split into two, forking in different directions until they met their own intersections. Kori ran, frantically seeking escape, but there was none to be had here. There was only the endless stone maze, allowing movement but never freedom.

The Blue Wizzrobe knew his brothers were witnessing the same thing, for their screams mingled with his own.

* * *

Leena crouched behind a large redstone pillar, her breathing ragged as she and her sand sister risked a brief respite before breaking cover once more. The night sky added to their concealment. Then again, it did the same for their pursuers.

"Have we lost them?" the red-haired Gerudo whispered, the bitter desert cold forming mist from her breath.

Barta, whose own sweat was fast evaporating in the chill now that they were no longer sprinting across the sands, chanced a glance around the pillar and shook her head.

"I cannot tell," the older woman murmured in reply. "They skulk in the shadows like serpents. We must press on, sand sister. Our people must know of this threat."

Leena gulped in another breath and nodded. She had not feared anything since she was a little girl, when her first encounter with a desert lizalfo had nearly ended her life. Barta had been there for her then, too, with a ready spear and a comforting arm. Now, with the ancestors knew how many of these masked demons trailing them, Barta's sure words were calming indeed.

The Gerudo readjusted the spears and round shields hanging from their backs, their feet finding purchase in the shifting sand as they prepared to flee once more. Leena sorely wished they had sand seals to aid their flight, but speed had not been the initial purpose of their search in the Karusa Valley.

Their thoroughness had been rewarded. The Thunder Helm was here. Yet like so many stories from Leena's childhood, the treasure was guarded by a den of evil. Those stories had always ended with the heroines braving any and all danger to obtain their hard-won prize. They did not mention faceless pursuers and the gnawing terror of discovery.

Leena felt a comforting hand squeeze her arm.

"On my count, we make for the western ruins," Barta whispered with a small smile. "They will not expect us to go that far afield."

Leena felt an ember of courage warm her insides. She nodded in silent and thankful reply.

"Now!"

Sand flew from their feet as the Gerudo sprinted south. Karuso's canyon opened ahead, inviting the vastness of the desert in which the pair hoped to lose their hunters. Hope blossomed within Leena's haltered breast. Surely, under night's cover and amid the abandoned ruins, they would evade the masked ones long enough to bring word back to their people.

A hiss in the darkness. Barta cried out in pain as she fell, a shaft protruding from her leg.

Leena skidded to a halt, but was met by an angry shove to the face when she turned to help her friend.

"Go!" Barta hissed furiously. "Our people must know! Go or I slay you here and now!"

The younger Gerudo might have persisted even under her friend's threat had the audible shifting of sand not betrayed the arrival of their pursuers. Gulping down the sob that threatened to escape her, Leena turned and sprinted down the hill that spilled into the vast desert vistas below.

* * *

Barta gritted her teeth and stifled another cry as she snapped the shaft's flighted half. She was about to yank the headed end from her flesh when a soft leather boot stepped on it instead. This time the Gerudo did cry out, and her curse rang off the canyon walls.

Looking up furiously, she beheld her assailant up close for the first time. The moon barely illuminated dark red boots, matched by arm-length sleeves and hood of the same color. Leaden grey leggings and form-fitting shirts covered the rest of him. The stranger's face was concealed by a white mask on which was painted a crimson symbol: an upside-down eye with lashes on its lower lid and a teardrop "falling" upward.

More masked ones filtered out of the darkness, their silence unnerving in contrast to Barta's labored breathing. She cried out once more as her most immediate threat twisted his foot atop the embedded arrow shaft.

"It hurts, does it not?" a man's voice rasped mockingly from behind the expressionless mask. "To be wounded and left for dead by those whom you would call friend? Worry not. Like me, your abandonment may become your salvation."

"The sands take you, modulga _bok_!" Barta snarled.

"Had you a father, he would have struck down your insolent tongue long ago," the masked one tisked. "As it is, perhaps we will remove it ourselves. But we are not hasty. If you show promise, you too may be counted among the Yiga."

Barta's eyes widened. Like every Gerudo girl, she had heard tales of these Ganon fanatics as warnings against misbehavior. Now, the significance of their present numbers took on an even more sinister meaning.

"I would sooner be counted among the dead!" Barta spat. "Fight me, _voe_ filth, and find out how much promise I can show!"

The Yiga's scornful laugh rang into the night, its echoes accompanied by that of his companions.

"You have spirit, sand wench," he observed with mocking praise. "It will be my master's pleasure to break it, unto obedience or unto death."

Barta struggled furiously as the Yiga motioned for two of his followers to take her. She ceased only long enough to hear the leader issue orders to one of his fellows.

"The other one," he quietly ordered. "Slay her when you find her - or yourself if you don't."


	2. Gifts and Partings

The soothing sound of running water filled the throne room in which Link stood. It fell from and coursed through channels carved from a combination of silver and luminous stone, creating an ever-present and soft light that enhanced the feeling of wonder permeating throughout Zora’s Domain.

That light differed only slightly from Link’s blue eyes, which roved over the surface of his Sheikah slate for the hundredth time that morning. Most of the perfectly depicted map -- which somehow shone from within the slate’s smooth and glass-like surface -- was dark, including the area where a small, yellow arrow marked his own location. His right finger traced northward from that arrow and to the northwest corner of the incomplete depiction of Hyrule. There, glowing in a field of black, pulsed a small golden dot. Just east of it shone one of its siblings, while two more could be found in the northwestern and southwestern portions of the map.

Link’s concern lay with the first two. The right-most dot represented a member of the Sheikah, one whom their elder had said could help him learn the purpose of unknown fragments recovered from two ancient shrines. Even now they rested inside a sack hanging from his belt -- a small ball of silver metal and yellow light, and a pair of nondescript metal rods attached at their ends by a small bolt. Link knew only that they would somehow fulfill the prophecy of the shrines’ survivor, who would “be armed with death’s reach.”

How these nondescript objects would do so, Link had no clue, but their promise was tantalizing in the face of his more immediate task. That was what the other golden dots represented. Each of them disclosed the location of colossal, animal-like machines of untold power. Built by the Sheikah to help defeat Calamity Ganon in another age, they had been unearthed and recruited for the same purpose just one hundred years ago. This time, Ganon had managed to seize control of them and, with their help, all but decimate the kingdom of Hyrule.

Zelda, the last surviving member of Hyrule’s royal family, had somehow halted the Demon King’s onslaught. But in captivity her strength waned even as Link attempted to gather his own. Restoring the Divine Beasts to their original purpose was paramount to his task of truly defeating his immortal enemy -- and freeing the princess he had sworn to protect more than a century ago.

This circle of thought led to Link deciding yet again that he would ignore Impa’s associate and make straight for the Divine Beast to the north. He knew next to nothing about it or the land in which it dwelled. Those were the only reasons he had not left already.

As though his thoughts had been a summons, the sudden entrance of a vast presence caused Link to turn around. Not for the first time did he find himself in near awe at seeing Dorephan, King of Zora’s Domain. The whale-like monarch was three times again as large as any of his people, who were normally twice the size of Hylians to begin with. His human-like face and body were complemented by blue skin on the back half of his body, fins at his hips and a great dorsal fin sprouting from the back of his fish-shaped head. Muscle and sinew rippled underneath bracelets and collars of pure silver, while atop his great brow rested a diadem adorned with seven silver rays bejeweled with arrow-shaped opals. The regality of his presence was matched by the deep bass timbre in which he spoke.

“Good morning, Link of Hyrule,” Dorephan rumbled warmly as his immense hand swallowed Link’s in greeting. “I hope you slept well in advance of such an important day.”

“I could say the same to you, Your Highness,” Link humbly returned with a small bow. “Though I welcome whatever you can tell me before I depart, I did not wish to keep you from your people as they march to war.”

It was this that caused Link to second-guess his decision time and time again. He knew his mission to free the three remaining Divine Beasts from Ganon’s hold was paramount. He also knew the Zora were, even now, swimming westward. Countless Hylians had fled to the Wetlands Stable for safety. Ganonspawn were gathering to crush them.

“My son proved his valor at your side and many times before,” Dorephan returned with a gracious incline of his massive head. “I trust him to lead our people until I join them.”

Link did not fault the Zora king for trusting his son. Besides Dorephan himself, Sidon was one of the most impressive beings he would ever know.

“But before I depart, I must arm Hyrule’s Champion against the most terrible foe of all.”

The Zora king’s laugh met Link’s look of surprise, for he had not expected to be gifted a weapon before parting. With a broadsword and bow already held fast to his back and a short Sheikah blade sheathed at his belt, Link doubted his Zora drycloth bag could hold more than the rest of his supplies it already contained.

“Ignorance, my Hylian friend,” Dorephan answered good-naturedly. “Ignorance can kill the most skilled warrior, and against that we will arm you with knowledge.”

Hyrule’s former Champion smiled at the wise king’s words.

“Sound counsel to remember,” Link admitted wryly, “especially for one who remembers almost nothing.”

The admission was not as bitter as it had been just a week ago. For one hundred years, Link had lain asleep in a Sheikah chamber, recovering from wounds that would have slain almost any other. The healing, however, had cost him all of his memories, which had only just begun to resurface. Those had involved people, however, not places, forcing him to rely even more upon the Sheikah slate and the knowledge of others.

“Ah, now as to that, I  _ am  _ pleased to arm you with this,” Dorephan said kindly.

From his belt, the Zora king removed what Link recognized as a book. It was Hylian in size, which surprised him until Dorephan explained its origin.

“This belonged to my dear Mipha,” the Zora patriarch said softly. “I thought you would like to have it for the long days ahead, as its words could remind you of those that lay behind.”

Link’s hands froze in the act of receiving the precious gift, his heart burning with a now familiar and bittersweet ache. Dorephan’s daughter had loved him -- and he her -- before duty and, ultimately, her death had kept their love from truly joining.

He had seen her spirit inside Vah Ruta, the first Divine Beast Link had freed. Aside from being the Zora’s late princess, Mipha had also been one of the Champions commissioned to pilot the Divine Beasts against Ganon. Instead, his backblast had trapped her within the very tool meant to defeat him. Only now was she free, albeit in spirit form, to finish the task appointed to her in life before moving on to rest. 

Yet what little Link recalled of her did not pertain to war or duty, but rather the precious few moments they had shared together. The idea of regaining more of them was more than tempting. Looking into the tremulous gaze of Mipha’s father, however, he found himself attempting to return the book.

“She was your daughter, Your Majesty,” Link said, ashamed. “I cannot accept such a personal possession from you.”

Dorephan merely, albeit firmly, returned the book to the protesting Hylian.

“I already own the memories you yet strive to regain,” the Zora said with a shake of his head. “As I said, you will find her words of a specific comfort to you. I must admit, I consulted them myself after you first arrived. Believe me when I say they will do you well.”

Reluctant but grateful just the same, Link accepted the book and stowed it in his drycloth bag. He could not deny that part of him was eager to see the truth of Dorephan’s words.

“Good,” Dorephan said to briskly conclude the vulnerable moment. “Now we come to matters of the present. You informed me that the Divine Beast you plan to confront next lies to the north. That can only be one: Vah Rudania, which was piloted by Daruk of Death Mountain.”

Link nodded, his thoughts quickening with vague remembrance of the cheerful Goron. The image was blunted by the Zora’s doubtful expression.

“If Rudania resides near the Gorons themselves, you have no way of reaching it as you are,” Dorephan informed him. “When Rhoam, Zelda or emissaries from other peoples required an audience with the Gorons, they did so near the foot of the mountain. Higher than that, the air itself will sear your lungs and turn you to ash. Even the Gerudo cannot withstand the heat fueled by Death Mountain.”

“Surely I would not be set to an impossible task,” Link protested. “Is there no way a Hylian can make the journey?”

“Perhaps a fool’s way,” Dorephan replied while dubiously stroking his chin. “The land east of the mountain is called Akkala. It was once a budding province, and even now two stables remain to protect the Hylians who live there.

“It is also,” the Zora king added cautiously, “home to a great fairy, one of the last of her kind. At least, it was when I sought her aid long ago.”

“A fairy?” Link asked, surprised. “I have no memory of fairies. What protection can she offer against a mountain of fire?”

“Such beings are gifted with magic that rivals any save that of Hylia or Ganon,” Dorephan softly explained, his eyes drifting as though reliving a distant memory. “They may bestow gifts on those who seek them, gifts that defy nature itself should they be required.”

Then the Zora’s yellow eyes narrowed as they refocused on Link.

“But know this, my friend,” Dorephan warned. “The great fairy’s grace does not come without a price, and it is always steep. Do not pay it unless you must, for it is often that which you can least afford.”

“I have little enough to my name,” Link said ruefully. “I will seek her out and discover her price. If its reward is another blow to Ganon’s hold over Hyrule, it will be worth it.”

“You are right,” Dorephan somberly agreed. “Though it pains me to imagine you paying more than you already have, my friend. Come, let me accompany you to the water.”

Link followed his broad host out of the throne room and down the series of curved stairways that led to the main platform of Zora’s Domain. More of the same silver and luminous stone craftsmanship comprised the graceful nature of Dorephan’s ancestral home. Water accompanied the pair via shallow channels carved into the walkways before falling in miniature cataracts to each of the successive levels below.

The Zora-guided currents eventually emptied into the great lake basin from which the kingdom itself rose, supported by magnificent pillars of the silver-blue workmanship so favored by its people. Before doing so, however, the water culminated in a great shallow pool at the center of the Domain’s first and largest platform. The pool’s surface, which reflected the soothing lights of its surroundings, seemed to highlight the structure at its middle: an expertly carved statue of a female Zora, smiling benignly downward. Her arms gently cradled the shaft of a long trident, its tines also pointed down.

To the Zora, the statue was a depiction of their beloved and lost princess, one who had healed with words and magic alike. To Link, it was a bittersweet reminder of what his life could have been. Yet Mipha herself had urged him not to mourn, but to complete the task they had set out to do so long ago.

Seeing her stone facade once again, Link grasped the pendant hanging from a silver chain around his neck. Within its encasing rested a single white scale -- the offering made by a female Zora to her intended husband. Mipha had crafted the pendant and accompanying armor for him, only to have her life cut short before she could gift them herself.

Link felt a great hand rest on his shoulder.

“She truly loved you, Link,” Dorephan rumbled in a low voice. “There is no doubt in my heart that she is overjoyed to help you once more.”

Link blinked back the tears that threatened to overtake him, but his grip on the pendant strengthened. He knew that he and Mipha were now united in a way that neither Calamity nor death could break.

Zora and Hylian turned from the statue and made their way to the northern side of the main concourse. The Domain was devoid of nearly all its inhabitants save the extremely young, old and those remaining to take care of both. Dorephan himself would hasten to join his warriors immediately after seeing Link off.

“You are sure a companion would not be welcome?” the Zora king asked suddenly. “There is enough water in Akkala to allow Gruve to see you to a stable, at least.”

This was not the first time Dorephan had offered one of his people’s services for Link’s journey. The temptation to accept was strong. Link appreciated Gruve’s cheerful disposition, not to mention the added value of a Zora spear at his side would offer.

Yet Link was again reminded of the desperate plight at Wetlands Stable, one of the few havens left to Hylians since the Calamity. Just a week ago, it had already been overflowing with refugees fleeing waves of Ganonspawn from north and south alike. And though they were skilled warriors, the nearby Sheikah’s numbers were hardly enough to stem the flood threatening to drown the stable and its people.

“The wetlands need every able-bodied warrior to survive, Your Majesty,” Link said in a respectful yet firm tone. “I will look to the stables in Akkala for whatever aid I may require. As it is, your people did not leave me wanting.”

That was an understatement. The Zora had seen that Link’s pack and haversack -- editions made of the waterproof drycloth they favored out of necessity -- were filled to bursting with food, supplies and whatever else he might need. They had even gifted him his own pair of luminous stones, which were mined in abundance from the surrounding mountains.

As he mentally ticked off his possessions, Link’s hand drifted over his shoulder to grip the hilt of his sword reassuringly. The unconscious act sparked a more recent memory to life.

“Purah told me the Spring of Power lies somewhere in Akkala,” Link said suddenly, “and that I must seek it out to regain the Sword That Seals The Darkness. Do you know where it is, Dorephan?”

He felt his heart leap in anticipation as the wise Zora nodded thoughtfully.

“I am glad you thought to mention as much,” Dorephan admitted. “I intended to tell you earlier: it is strange seeing you without the Sword. It fit you, and you it. I imagine it is just as vital to your mission as the reclamation of the Divine Beasts. Yes, the Spring of Power resides near the eastern slopes of Death Mountain. Even without the full aid of your slate, there are those at the stables who should know how to find it. Many attempt the pilgrimage to the springs in honor of Zelda, for they know it is because of her what is left of our kingdom still survives.”

“Impa and Purah told me as much concerning the Sword’s importance,” Link agreed. “It feels silly to miss a piece of metal, but no other blade has felt right.”

“It is not silliness, but a sense of yourself, Link,” Dorephan corrected him. “Hylia chose you to bear the Sword on Her behalf. Without it, you cannot fulfill the role for which She prepared you. It is only natural, then, that you would feel incomplete without it.

“But do not fall into the same trap that ensnared Zelda until it was nearly too late,” the Zora warned, his brow furrowed in concern. “In her quest to obtain the sealing power reserved for Hyrule’s princess, she felt worthless without it. Such is the folly of those who refuse to see Hylia’s design in all things, for often the searching is just as necessary as the finding.”

“Yes,” Link said half to Dorephan, half to himself, “She did feel the lesser without it.” He could still picture the Hylian princess ashamedly admitting her failure to the other Champions at Mount Lanayru.

The pair arrived at the platform’s northern edge, where a small cataract spilled into the lake below. Sunlight -- still a revelation after weeks of Vah Ruta’s unceasing rain -- reflected brilliantly off the water’s surface. Link took one last full look of his surroundings, truly hopeful he would again behold Zora’s Domain beauty one day.

“You are always welcome here, Link,” Dorephan knowingly observed. “Zora’s Domain is indebted to you, regardless of what happens in the time to come.”

The time to come. What would it hold? So much had already happened -- more than Link could have hoped to learn or do in such a short time -- yet he felt that he had grasped but the smallest portion of what yet awaited. He turned to Dorephan, who had knelt to at least diminish the great difference in height between them. It was then that Link realized the long-lived king— one of the wisest beings in Hyrule — had spoken with him as an equal during the entirety of their conversation.

Link tried to grasp the Zora’s hand, though his effort was again swallowed by Dorephan’s matching gesture. Young Hylian eyes met those of the Zora.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Link said warmly. “Your welcome and words mean more than you can know.”

“Just as your actions will affect countless others more than you can perceive,” Dorephan replied intently. “If we both seek to follow the currents Hylia has set, I do not doubt She will see us through the rocks and rapids that yet await.”

“Then I pray Her currents will bring us together again before the end,” Link answered just as earnestly.

With that, Link turned, secured his belongings one last time, and dove into the depths of Zora’s Domain below.

* * *

The early autumn water would have chilled Link had he not been wearing the magical Zora garments Mipha had sewn for him and him alone. The dark blue material fit him like a second skin and was as waterproof as drycloth. Link allowed himself to briefly enjoy his enhanced ability to cut through the lake's vast depths.

_ “Mipha made them with the hope you would one day swim the waters of the Domain together.” _

Dorephan’s words rang bittersweetly. Link tried to imagine a world in which Mipha had survived and Ganon had not, where perhaps she would swim alongside him even now. Would Zora’s Domain have become his home? It was impossible, a door locked without hope of opening again.

As though he could outrace the thought, Link turned and cut swiftly across the lake surface toward the northern side of the basin. There, feeding the lake and its subsequent river into the wetlands, roared the mighty waterfall of Zora’s Domain. Its deluge was guided by a flawless, Zora-made wall built into the mountain that prevented the cataract from slowly gouging away at its source.

The structure only added to the magnificence of the Domain’s fount of life, but it was even more than that to the Zora. Such was their goddess-given ability in the water that the Zora could even ascend waterfalls, a miracle none but they possessed.

Until now. Mipha had magically endowed Link’s Zora clothing with her people’s ability, a gift he had already used once before. This waterfall was infinitely larger than that of his previous experience, however. Common sense told Link he should venture nowhere near the crushing plunge pool, where the fall’s white mist and constant roar drowned out all else. Yet he knew the Zora armor would all but negate the waterfall’s force. Indeed, upon swimming under its full crushing weight, Link felt nothing but a mild increase in pressure, as though the water was merely sliding off his person.

Dorephan’s son had instructed him how to go about the next part, which Link had performed to Sidon’s enthusiastic approval. The Hylian felt the same thrill now as he twisted against the falling water -- and felt his body move  _ up  _ against the gravity-bound current. As easily as a minnow darting downstream, Link shot up the great waterfall, occasionally leaping out -- or was it sideways? -- of the torrent to take a breath. The entire sensation felt at once impossible and natural, and it was only too soon that Link leapt free of the cataract’s crest and onto the green grass of Upland Zorana.

Link changed quickly, trading the dark blue Zora clothing for the Hylian travel garb he favored. It was only after he had hefted his pack onto his back that he allowed a last look to the south at the Domain he was leaving behind. The sun was well on its way to its midday zenith, its light brilliantly reflected off the silver curves and carvings of the Zora kingdom. Like a water-set jewel, it glittered with an inviting peace that made Link feel the keen pain of his departure.

From his vantage point atop the mountain plateau, Link saw the Domain’s great basin feed into the mountain-enclosed Zora River. Somewhere along it, perhaps already beyond it and in the wetlands, Sidon and his water brethren hastened to the aid of a Hylian stable. Link offered up a mental prayer for their good fortune, heartily hoping he would see the Zora prince again.

Resigned to his leavetaking and resolved toward his quest, Link turned and marched north.

* * *

Dorephan marveled as he tracked Link’s ascent up his Domain’s waterfall. Long-lived though he was, the Zora king could not fathom how Mipha had graced her betrothal gift with her people’s ability. Then again, he had never seen a mage heal as she had, either. Truly, Hylia had blessed his daughter in ways unforeseen.

There had been a time when Dorephan envisioned Mipha and Link marrying. The bond between them had been an ill-kept secret to all save the hate-blinded elders of his own people. Dorephan had nurtured it when he could amid the overwhelming duties shouldered by both Hylian Champion and Zora princess. Link was as noble a warrior as any bull, to the point that many Zora youths had admired the young knight.

Dorephan’s formidable brow furrowed. Those calves were now full-grown and swimming headlong into open battle, something the Zora -- and the rest of Hyrule -- had striven to avoid since the Calamity. Most had dealt with the occasional lizardspawn or bokoblin, but Link and the other Hylian -- what was his name? Brig-oh? -- had reinforced his own son’s reports of hundreds of Ganonspawn massing to the west. His young warriors’ mettle would be tested as much as his own in the days ahead.

_ How, Seggin? _ Dorephan thought bitterly.  _ How could you abandon us now? _

It was not the first time the Zora king had mourned the loss of his Demon Sergeant, whose experience would have been invaluable to the newer blood. Seggin’s betrayal cut deeper than the sharpest blade, a wedge driven deeply into the once assumed unity of his people. The other elders that had sided with him and against Link seemed repentant, but it pained Dorephan to know he could never trust them as he once did. Ganon was testing his people’s most buried vices. How many more would be exposed under the fires of war and hardship?

A mild cough interrupted Dorephan’s reverie, and he turned to find Gruve kneeling on the silvery floor. The blue-skinned Zora bore the king’s scabbarded sword, a broad weapon the length of a fully grown bull. Dorephan smiled as he gently accepted the weapon and addressed his patient water brother.

“Thank you, Gruve,” the king gratefully said. “Forgive me, my mind wanders in deep waters on such a heavy day. Are you ready to join our water brethren?”

The good-natured Zora placed a hand to his chest and bowed his head.

“By fin, fish and freshwater, I am ready, Your Highness,” Gruve vowed.

Dorephan briefly removed the great blade from its sheath, its flawless Zora metal glinting in the daylight.

“Then let us swim, my friend,” Dorephan grimly said, “and meet the fate Hylia has written.”


	3. Wings from the West

The wind cut keenly across Upland Zorana, forcing Link to keep his cloak securely about him as he trekked northward. The air carried an extra chill at this height, and Link realized why the Zora ventured here as seldom as they did. He did not expect to see more than grass and whatever wildlife dwelled in these parts.

Upon reaching the summit of a small hill, Link was subsequently surprised to find the remains of man-made buildings half-submerged in a low pond below. So advanced was their decay that only mossed and crumbling portions of walls jutted out from the murky fen. It was impossible to tell what kind of place it had been, and whether Hylian or Zora had dwelt there.

Link was on the verge of circumnavigating the ruins when a highly unusual, but not unpleasant sound reached his ears. He crouched immediately, instinct telling him to trust nothing he could not see. Yet the more Link strained to hear, the more curious he was to discover the noise’s origin. It seemed to come from the far side of the moor.

Curiosity ultimately won out, and Link resolved to approach as cautiously as he could. The dilapidated walls provided enough cover to ensure his way was safe before moving on. As he drew closer, Link realized the sound comprised of two sources: a voice and an instrument. The former was clear and pleasant to hear, a rich yet well-enunciated tenor that had clearly trained for such performances. Link did not recognize its accompaniment, but its harmonic tone complemented the voice perfectly.

_I wish I could spread my wings and fly over the ocean._

_I wish I could see the world beyond this great sea._

_If I could only be a freely flying bird..._

_Guess I will never find new worlds to discover_

Deciding that no one of unsavory character would sing such a carefree song for all to hear, Link finally emerged from behind the northernmost wall. His jaw dropped upon beholding the music’s origin.

Beautiful blue plumage covered the majority of the singer, who stood securely atop one of the ruined walls thanks to the sharply curved talons at its feet. Billowing cream trousers were tied off just below the knees, while a leather vest, red sash, and smartly wrapped scarf accounted for the rest of his clothing. Circles of creamy white feathers surrounded keen yellow eyes, while its primaries -- which also served as the creature’s fingers -- sported a vibrant combination of light blue, orange, cream, and dark blue. Those gripped a curious instrument that emitted cheering music each time he stretched and compressed it. A brilliant white-and-red feather -- clearly not his own -- was inserted jauntily through his right head feathers. On the whole, he was the most exotic being Link had ever seen.

The stranger, not having noticed his new audience, continued the merry tune.

_The setting sun kisses goodbye_

_The wind fish lying on the horizon, his cry is echoing._

_Everything starts to disappear._

_As I'm just a part of his dreams I'll fade too._

_Promise me I will live on within your heart._

Only after the last, beautiful note concluded did the feathery figure finally take notice of Link. Without missing a beat, he gave his Hylian observer a gallant leg from atop the wall.

“Good day to you, my friend,” he greeted warmly. “I hope my humble offering was to your liking.”

“To my liking and more, good sir!” Link called back with well-earned applause.

The stranger gave a hearty grin and another bow. He then carefully stowed his instrument in a pouch slung over his shoulder before descending gracefully with a gentle flap of his wings. Once he landed, Link saw the creature was a good half-height taller than himself.

“I did not expect Upland Zorana to provide audience nor applause, yet I find myself graced by both,” the musician observed graciously. “May I introduce myself? I am Kass, a wandering minstrel by way of Rito Village. And whom do I have the honor of addressing on this fine day?”

“Link of Hyrule,” Link said as he heartily shook Kass’s feathers. He felt no desire to hide his name from the Rito, whose open and courtly manner invited nothing but trust. “If your people all sing like you, Master Kass, your home must be the most pleasant-sounding in all of Hyrule.”

“There are many Rito gifted with the grace of song, though most of them female,” Kass said humbly. “I am merely foolish enough to stray from my wife and eggchicks long enough to satisfy my thirst for music and knowledge. Tell me, are you familiar with the tune I was singing?”

Link shook his head, which the kindly Rito took as an invitation.

“Its words are of little import save for those who wrote them,” Kass explained enthusiastically. “The song was written by a Zora musician long ago, one whom the histories say established the very village marked by these ruins. Having obtained the lyrics and music, I felt compelled to perform them at their creator’s old home. I find my appreciation increases greatly when present pays homage to past.”

Link could not help but be impressed by the Rito’s respect for the arts and histories.

“Your endeavors sound fulfilling, Kass,” Link said truthfully. “Would that I could lose myself in something similar.”

“Oh?” Kass said as he cocked his beaked face to one side. “You are otherwise engaged? I do not mean to pry, but it is quite remarkable for a Hylian to reach such heights without the aid of wing or fin. I refer to my own people and the Zora, of course, whose ancestral home lies just south of us.”

Link’s admiration for Kass increased, but so did his wariness. Many Zora held bitter memories of Hyrule’s Champion. He was in no hurry to see whether the Rito felt the same. Yet without a prepared explanation, he felt a version of the truth was his only course.

“The Zora did aid my ascent up the mountain,” Link admitted. That much was true, save for how the Rito would assume such aid had been given. “Now I journey alone to Akkala and, from there, Death Mountain.”

“An ambitious venture,” Kass succinctly remarked. “Even should you be able to descend Upland Zorana, the road to Death Mountain is all but impassable.”

“If you refer to the mountain’s fire itself, I understand,” Link acknowledged with a nod of respect. “My means of besting it are incomplete, but I will go just the same.”

“It is not my place to question your plans,” Kass respectfully admitted. “But it is not Dinraal’s wrath that fuels my warning. I speak of the Ganonspawn massed at the Akkala Citadel -- or rather, what remains of it.”

Link’s eyes widened in alarm. _Does the enemy know my path already?_ he wondered, _or are they simply readying to take Akkala itself?_ Meeting Kass had suddenly proven invaluable.

“I am not familiar with the citadel, Kass, but I would see it for myself,” Link said grimly. “Not only for me, but for whatever peoples are threatened by the Ganonspawn’s presence.”

“A man of action,” Kass mused aloud. “Your manner and moniker call to mind the Hylian Champion of old, Link of Hyrule. I will take you to where you may safely observe the Citadel. From a distance, mind you,” the Rito added with a wink. “I have no desire to see such a kind audience meet an untimely end.”

Link offered up brief thanks but said nothing beyond that. Kass’s wonderings, supported by his studies, hit too close to home. Until he knew how his true identity would be received, Link intended to keep it concealed.

“Lead the way, Kass,” Link signaled.

* * *

Link found that time passed quickly in Kass’s company. The Rito was engaging and intelligent; there was seemingly nothing in which the Rito was not well-versed, and he needed little compelling to share his wealth of knowledge.

“It is encouraging to see the Zora help one such as yourself,” Kass observed as they trekked northwest across the rolling green vistas of Upland Zorana. “They are a noble people, but long divided in their regard for Hylians. Not that we Rito are devoid of our own biases, which consist mainly of our own wind brothers and sisters. A pity. They do not know the quality of the souls from which they close themselves.”

“The Zora elders cling to the loss of one of their own,” Link returned sympathetically. “I do not begrudge them their grief.”

“Ah yes, the late Princess Mipha,” Kass nodded knowingly. “She was as kind as her father is wise, and perhaps even more so.”

“You knew her?” Link asked, so surprised that he nearly stumbled at the start of a small hill.

“Good Hylia, no,” Kass chuckled. “We Rito are not so long-lived as the Zora. Even our Elder, Kaneli, is two generations removed from the Calamity. But I have made Dorephan’s acquaintance on more than one occasion and am well-versed in his people’s history.”

The two continued to walk for a short time in silence before the Rito took it upon himself to renew the conversation.

“I must admit, I am surprised at your ignorance of the Rito,” Kass said with an arched eyebrow. “Please understand I say this out of curiosity, not offense. You seem well-traveled for one so unfamiliar with my people.”

Was it Link’s imagination, or did Kass’s appraising look flicker ever so slightly toward the Sheikah slate at his hip?

“My travels have only just taken me this far,” Link finally replied before deflecting the subject at hand. “Akkala is foreign to me as well. Are its people open to newcomers like myself?”

“That would depend on the people in question,” Kass wryly answered. “As is the case in all of Hyrule, the Hylian stables stand to provide welcome and protection. The open roads are another matter, though the patrolmen do their level best to safeguard the way for travelers. Even they are hard-pressed by the Ganonspawn and bandits that prey upon smaller parties.”

Link nodded thoughtfully, recalling Dorephan’s repeated offering of a companion. Clearly, Akkala was no safer than any other part of Hyrule he had already seen.

“If that is the case,” Link remarked, “I can see why even a minstrel would carry a blade.”

The stately Rito looked down at the short sword at his waist with a look of extreme distaste.

“Bloodshed has never been my forté,” Kass said bluntly. “I will defend myself if I must, but I have never shared my wind brothers’ affinity for battle. It is for this reason they view me as an oddity more than anything else. A fitting moniker,” the Rito added with a sudden grin. “My little ones have dubbed me their ‘funny papa,’ though they seem to appreciate my music well enough.”

“As well they should,” Link said appreciatively. “You obviously care for them a great deal. What draws you so far from home now?”

The colorful Rito appeared to contemplate his answer before delivering it.

“Our home is threatened by that which once protected it,” Kass said grimly. “The Divine Beast Vah Medoh -- a great machine commissioned by the Sheikah -- has claimed the skies my people cherish. Now we live in its shadow, cloaked in fear and divided in inaction. While my elders and brethren debated a solution, I decided to seek out further knowledge – or help -- that might illumine an answer satisfactory to all.”

Yellow eyes met blue. There was no denying it. Somehow, Kass knew what he was doing, perhaps even who he truly was. A sudden gust of wind disturbed the unspoken moment, and Link saw they were nearing Upland Zorana’s northern edge.

“Best we crawl, Link,” Kass warned as he reluctantly got to his knees. “The citadel is a fair distance away even from here, but even so I would not risk us being seen.”

Link acquiesced immediately. Together, the two inched their way to what Link saw was a steep cliff edge. A tuft of brush offered cover. From there, Link gazed out upon the Akkala province.

Death Mountain dominated the landscape to the north, and Link felt insignificant in its presence. The mighty fire mountain reared larger than anything else in sight, smoke rising in great clouds from its pinnacle. Red rivulets formed wide, glowing veins down the jagged and scorched slopes. Halfway up its southeastern side rose a familiar sight: a bronze tower bearing a single eye sigil at its bulbous peak. Link thought it a miracle that the ancient Sheikah metal did not yield to the extraordinary heat it must endure. To the northwest, Akkala’s valley rolled out in a series of forested hills beautified by the oncoming autumn.

Link’s attention was arrested, however, by what lay directly between him and the volcano.

“That,” Kass remarked sadly, “is the Akkala Citadel.”

“Was” would have been the more correct usage, but even the citadel ruins more than hinted at the grandeur they had once held. Enormous remnants of fallen walls and battlements spoke of what had been an all-but-impenetrable fortress, a place Link instinctively knew had served as Akkala’s military sentinel. The man-carved stone, though crumbling, still encased a large portion of the stony spire on which it was originally built, likely an extension of the mountain itself. The citadel rose from the valley far below, which Link realized would have had once served as a parade ground.

No Hylian troops marched at the base of the citadel now. Instead, bokoblins clustered and milled about like mites infesting a rotten log. Larger bodies betrayed the presence of moblins as well. It was impossible to tell from so high, but Link doubted fewer than fifty score Ganonspawn now enjoyed the stronghold’s shadow.

“You see my concern?”

Link nodded before realizing the Rito was gesturing toward the citadel’s spire – or was it? Only then did Link understand the top-most structure was not part of the citadel at all, but another Sheikah tower. He had not recognized it due to the fact that its bronze facade was disfigured by large, red splotches. Link was strongly reminded of the apparition he had seen swirling around Hyrule Castle shortly after awakening on the plateau. It, too, had been black and red. Unlike the vaporous and boar-like creature there, this tower’s infestation appeared solid in nature. They reminded Link of sores and boils still festering on flesh.

Fear’s icy talons suddenly clawed at Link’s insides. Crawling across the citadel walls just below the tower itself, was a Guardian.

There was no mistaking it. The machine’s bell-shaped body and six serpentine legs were visible even from this distance. And though he could not see it, Link did not doubt the presence of a swiveling, orb-like eye that could unleash beams of devastating power.

Another Guardian, this one legless, flew a circuit around the tower itself. Link glimpsed at least two more machines, each performing their own mindless patrol of the ruined citadel. The entire structure now seemed a horrific reminder of the Calamity’s lingering taint.

_So much lost! So much lost to Ganon’s malice!_

Link gasped audibly. He had not heard Zelda’s voice since leaving the Great Plateau. It had been a voice of reason and instruction, then. She was weeping now, and its sense of loss pervaded Link’s being.

“Zelda?” he gasped disbelievingly.

“What was that, Sir Link?”

Kass’s voice startled Link back to the here and now. As closely nestled as they were within the shrubbery, the Rito’s face was very close to his own, its twin yellow orbs filled with mingled surprise and concern.

“I…,” Link stammered as he rallied his thoughts. “I did not realize so many had overtaken the citadel. You were right to warn me, Kass. Is there no way to the mountain around this?”

The blue-feathered Rito shook his broadly curved beak. “The Ganonspawn’s patrols frequent the paths around the mountain and as far as the wetlands to the southwest. Though I could bear you past the citadel itself, I could not carry you fast or high enough to avoid any who might see and track us down, which the Guardians most surely would.”

Link gnawed his lower lip in frustration. Death Mountain’s looming presence beckoned, tantalizing him with the prospect of securing another Divine Beast. Yet the army of Ganonspawn below might as well be an ocean, one which he was not equipped to cross.

“Then I must find another way,” Link said decisively. “Perhaps I can while tending to other matters in Akkala. Tell me, Kass, do you know a Sheikah named Robbie or where the Spring of Power lies?”

To Link’s surprise, the Rito nodded in response.

“I met Robbie some time ago, though I highly doubt he has changed abodes since then,” Kass replied. “As for the spring, it resides almost directly west of the Akkala Stable. It would be easier to reach along the path from the citadel,” he added with a nod to the overrun ruin, “but the Ganonspawn’s presence will likely force you to take the eastern road before cutting cross-country from the stable itself. The road bridges two rivers created by Upland Zorana’s waterfalls just east of here. Those at the citadel would not see us descend.”

“Us?” Link asked questioningly.

“But of course,” Kass answered with an easy smile. “I would be foolish to forgo a pilgrimage to one of the three springs or a rare encounter with a Sheikah recluse. As payment for my company, I shall divulge whatever knowledge I have to aid your journey to the mountain of death. What say you, Link of Hyrule?”

Once again, Link was seized with the inescapable feeling that Kass knew exactly whom he was addressing. Yet the Rito had, thus far, chosen to leave that revelation unspoken.

Still crouching amid the bushes, Link extended a hand to clasp long blue feathers.

“Your company will be as welcome as your help, Kass,” the Hylian said earnestly. “Let’s get moving.”

* * *

The sun was well past its midday peak when Link and Kass arrived at the Sokkala Falls. Their narrow torrents spilled down the sheer northern face of Upland Zorana and fed a trio of rivers that would, Kass said, eventually empty into Lake Akkala itself.

“The Zora fish these waters if game is poor in their own lands,” the Rito informed him as they surveyed the land from their magnificent vantage point. “Though I have not seen any during my time here.”

“Nor will you,” Link told him grimly. “When I left, the Zora had already marched on the Ganonspawn in the wetlands.”

“All of Hyrule faces threats from the same source, it seems,” Kass mused sadly. “A dark day indeed. But enough sobering talk, Link of Hyrule. We must see to getting you down from our prolific perch.”

Link had thought of little else during their brief sojourn along the ridge. Part of him was tempted to keep Mipha’s gift a secret. If what he suspected of Kass was true, however, there was little danger in using the Zora clothing.

“I would not see you burdened with both my pack and my person,” Link finally said with a pat of the Rito’s feathered shoulder. “I will depart Upland Zorana the same way I arrived. I ask only a moment of privacy, my friend.”

“Of course,” Kass responded with a gracious nod of his head. “I will wait for you east of the rivers below.”

Link nodded in gratitude, sensing the Rito’s offer was backed by the same silent respect he had shown during their short time together. Once Kass departed, Link changed back into the Zora armor quickly, savoring the meaning behind its making. Hylia knew when the opportunity to use it again would arise.

But the shock of hearing Zelda’s voice again kept returning. Did it mean something after nearly a moon’s passing since she had last spoken? Link hadn’t just heard her grief. He had _felt_ it, as though her emotion had been his own. It had mirrored his own despair, bordering on madness, when Rhoam had reminded him who he was -- and what he had lost.

He was already redressed, but Link shivered just the same as he approached the waterfall’s crest. _All is not lost, Zelda_ , he thought fiercely. _I’m coming._ Taking a deep breath, Link dove into the river’s depths and let them carry him off the northern precipice of Upland Zorana.

* * *

The altitude’s ample air currents allowed Kass to descend from Upper Zorana in lazy circles, his shadow a growing dot flitting between rivers and their adjoining banks. This was his preferred way to fly, a reflection of his peaceful disposition that so differed from the other Rito. Such languid flights allowed him time to compose part of a ballad or reflect on the vast beauty that lay beneath him. Other than those moments spent with his dear Amali and five daughters, these were his favorite.

Now, however, Kass’s normally benign expression was furrowed in indecision. He knew who this Hylian was. At least, he thought he knew. It was maddening how his knowledge of the past was met by Link’s ignorance of the present. The former was an old ally, the latter a new foe. Was there a field on which both somehow existed?

Perhaps more truth would reveal itself in time. Yes. He could content himself to patience’s inexorable reward. And if his theory proved to be right, Kass could finally fulfill his oath.


	4. New Friend, New Danger

Though Link had ascended waterfalls twice before with the miraculous Zora garments, this was his first opportunity to descend in similar fashion. There had been neither need nor opportunity for Sidon to teach him how it was done, leaving Link feeling unprepared as the cataract’s currents carried him off and down from Upland Zorana’s considerable heights.

As it had in Zora’s Domain, however, the dark blue clothing made the life-threatening foray feel as natural as breathing. Link found himself instinctually riding the flows on his knees, his fingers making their own trails behind him in a rush of air, water, and speed. The entire sensation was exhilarating, culminating in Link’s leap from the fall itself and into the waiting catch pool below.

Not wanting the river to take him further northward, Link made for the right bank as soon as his head broke the surface. He enjoyed the feeling of cutting smoothly through the water and again wondered at the idea of such a life with Mipha at his side.

The banks were steep and rocky, preventing easy departure from the river. A narrow wooden bridge offered Link his only chance. Part of its foundation, which was nothing more than a series of poles driven deep into the river bed and adjoining banks, was set into a flat portion on the eastern bank. Link pulled himself from the current, his chest heaving from adrenaline earned and effort spent. Once more he changed into his normal attire, using the bridge as cover.

Stowing all of the Zora garments -- save for Mipha’s pendant -- Link half-walked, half-climbed up the steep bank and onto the small strip of land separating the three rivers born from the falls. Two more waited to be crossed, and Link set out at once.

As eager as he was to reunite with Kass and resume his journey, Link allowed himself to admire the majestic scene in which he walked. The twin falls produced a steady roar and mist-born rainbows that drifted over rivers and bridges alike. More than one fish frisked in the active waters, reminding Link he had not yet eaten since setting out from Zora’s Domain.

The first bridge brought Link to a broader stretch of earth separating the latter two rivers. It was easy enough to follow the beaten path to the second bridge, which was likewise made of wood and presented no issues upon crossing. 

Waiting on the opposite side, as promised, was Kass. The Rito sat cross-legged under a tree, engrossed in some form of maintenance concerning his accordion. The kindly creature looked up and smiled upon seeing the Hylian.

“You vanquish waterfalls with all the skill of a Zora, Link of Hyrule!” Kass hailed appreciatively. “I could not help but notice your descent. I dare say Prince Sidon would have been proud of you, and he is considered the best swimmer among his own people!”

“It takes very little to make Sidon proud,” Link said truthfully. “He is one of the kindest souls I have ever met, willing to dole out praise without provocation or jealousy.”

“You are not alone in that observation,” Kass agreed as he stowed his instrument and stood. “It has been some time since I have enjoyed his company, but even as a calf he was a good-hearted lad.”  
Link nodded, glad to reflect on his Zora friend. He was all too aware, however, that Kass had intentionally observed his descent from Upland Zorana without asking how it was achieved. It seemed Link was not the only one waiting for the right time to discuss the truth in its entirety. _And what time will that be?_ he wondered.

“This road will take us to the stable?” Link asked aloud.

“Yes, though I am afraid it will take us at least two days to reach it,” Kass answered thoughtfully. “I am not the most accurate at calculating travel by foot. There is a cluster of ruins that lies northeast of here. With what remains of today, I believe we can make camp there.”

“I am sorry to keep you landbound,” Link said regretfully as the two set out eastward. “It seems a crime to keep a Rito anywhere but the sky.”

“A small price for a journey with a good man,” Kass returned kindly. The Rito’s colorful wings were folded behind his back as they walked, further exposing the short sword hanging from his sash. Link could not help but admire its craftsmanship. With a hollow center just above the hilt, the weapon was light, yet razor-sharp.

“That is a fine blade you carry, Kass,” Link said appreciatively. “I can only imagine its worth in the hands of a skilled Rito.” His feathered companion merely shrugged in response.

“As I said before, Link, I have little use for the clanging of swords and shedding of blood. Rearing five daughters and no sons has only enhanced that sentiment. But I do not deny the skill behind its making. Our smith takes pride in preparing our warriors, something my people do not take lightly.”

Then the Rito glanced at the hilt protruding over Link’s right shoulder.  
“I must assume you have at least some skill with a blade,” Kass observed. “Was yours a gift or a necessity?”

“Both,” Link answered carefully, but nothing more. The weapon he carried had been a gift from Impa, meant to serve him better than the smaller edition he had lost at Hateno. Both he and the Sheikah elder knew, however, that the former soldier’s sword was not the blade he would ultimately need.

“I see,” Kass said thoughtfully. “I am no smith, but it appears to be a stout weapon. I dare say -- and I hope you will forgive me for saying so -- it does not appear to fit you.”

Link looked at the Rito who seemed to know so much more about him than any being his age should. The descending sun was turning the white feathers around Kass’ eyes into a bright orange. The yellow eyes themselves, however, merely blinked with innocent interest.

“Why makes you say that, Kass?” Link asked cautiously.

“We Rito put far greater stock into pieces of metal than we should,” Kass admitted good-naturedly. “Our young are tried with different arms as soon as they have the strength to wield them. When we come of age, we choose the weapon that feels more natural to us than any other.

“I chose this,” the Rito continued while gesturing to his sword, “because it is small and easy to conceal. Unlike most of my flight brothers, I do not consider myself a warrior first. Such a sentiment is easier to indulge with this than a mighty sword or spear on my person. As I said, I am an oddity among my own.”

“It is an oddity I wish I could share,” Link admitted truthfully.

“I do not doubt your words, my friend,” Kass returned gently. “But it appears you have accepted whatever role requires you to dismiss them. And for some reason, I feel the blade you carry does not fit the burden you have chosen to bear.”

 _No_ , Link agreed to himself. _No, it does not._

The road turned north, giving them a broad view of the Akkala plains. The surface of Lake Akkala glimmered beneath the setting sun, while the soft sound of crashing waves could be heard to the east. Under dusk’s glow, the reddened autumn trees seemed almost ablaze.

“Hylia’s brush blesses the land,” Kass remarked softly. “Were the times better, I would bring my family here to appreciate it.”

Link nodded contentedly, his liking for his new companion growing by the minute. Though he missed Brigo’s good humor, the Rito had a way of saying exactly what his heart was feeling. His own sweeping gaze of the wondrous scene swung to the right, where it noticed something new.

“Is that not part of the mainland, Kass?” Link asked, pointing eastward.

The Rito peered toward the object of Link’s curiosity. A mighty monolith of stone rose well beyond the sheer edge of the coast. It reminded Link strongly of the Pillars of Levia, save it was far rockier and rose not from the land, but the sea beyond.

“That is Tingel Island,” Kass answered shortly. “It is the northernmost of the eastern isles, all named for those who have aided the hero of legend in ages past. Tingel, it is written, was the foremost of them, though he considered himself the least.”

“Why is that?” Link wondered aloud as the road turned north.

“In a time when fairies were many, Tingel was one of the very few bereft of one,” Kass explained enthusiastically. “Legend says he even tried to become a fairy himself to make up for what he deemed an immeasurable fault. Despite his odd obsession, Tingel was a gifted cartographer and an even better person. He supplied the hero with guidance and encouragement imperative to his success.”

Link nodded in absent-minded acceptance at the latter, for it was the first portion of the story that had snared his interest.

“Dorephan told me of a fairy that resides in Akkala,” Link said casually. “Do you know of such a creature?”

The question caused Kass to look sharply at his companion.

“Dorephan is one of the very few who would know of her,” the Rito slowly said. “Indeed, it is only by him that I am familiar with the Great Fairy Mija. I must admit, Link, I did not take you for a treasure seeker.”

So Kass was as wary of this sprite as Dorephan had been, Link reflected. Clearly, bargaining for her aid was no trifling matter.

“It is not treasure I seek, but help,” Link finally said. “As I told you before, I intend to reach Death Mountain. I cannot do so without powers beyond my own, and this fairy was the only answer Dorephan could readily provide.”

“Then it is the only answer that exists,” Kass said decisively. “His wisdom makes my own elder’s seem that of a babe.”

The Rito went silent, as though he were pondering what to say next. Link let the silence have its moment. The road was, he realized, descending with the land as both meandered northward. Dusk was fast approaching, causing a shadow to fall from the low rise to their left. Link could just make out the ruins further ahead to the right of the road.

“I do not believe it a coincidence that you would bring up the Great Fairy Mija when we are so close to her… abode,” Kass slowly said. “It lies but a morning’s walk from where we will camp.”

The Rito turned his beak to face Link directly. In the gathering dark, his yellow eyes seemed to glow with an added intensity.

“I dare say you will be the first to visit her in decades, Link,” Kass warned. “There is a reason for this, one to which I am sure Dorephan already alluded. Though Mija boasts the power to grant the extraordinary, the price she exacts for her services is equally exorbitant. The Akkalans give her grove a wide berth, lest they are tempted to pay that which they can least afford. Do you understand?”

Thinking yet again that he possessed little enough to begin with, Link acknowledged his friend’s caution with a firm nod.

“I understand, Kass,” he said gratefully. The Rito studied Link a moment longer before appearing at ease with their conversation.

“Very well,” Kass agreed with a sudden ruffling of his neck feathers. “I will take you there on the morrow. Until then, let us rest our claws -- er, feet.”

* * *

A crackling fire shone on two content travelers later that evening. Link had been happy to add his own fruit to Kass’ offering of fish, which he had retrieved from the Sokkala rivers earlier that day. The meal had filled the companions admirably, and now the pair sat comfortably against the ruin walls that concealed most of their camp from the nearby road.

The conversation had been nearly as good as the food. Link was fascinated by Kass’ telling of his homeland, a place of high peaks and harsh winters in which the Rito flourished.

“I cannot fathom archers as skilled as those you describe,” Link said admiringly. “This Teba truly hit three targets with three arrows on one draw?”

“Oh yes,” Kass confirmed good-naturedly. “Teba is regarded as the most skilled and fierce warrior among our people, neither of which are light claims to make, my friend. I dare say he is kin to the great Revali in spirit, if not blood.”

“The Rito Champion?” Link asked, now keenly interested.

“Ah, so you recognize the name?” Kass noted over the lit pipe protruding from his beak. Again, Link decided discreet truth was his best course.

“I was fortunate to know a Sheikah well versed in Hyrule’s history,” Link explained, his hand unconsciously gripping the hilt of the short, curved sword sheathed at his waist. “He told me Revali was the bravest Rito to soar the skies. I can see why such a one would inspire future generations.”

“In more ways than one,” Kass said dryly. “Revali’s tongue was as sharp as his shafts, and though Teba is not quite as rash as our late Champion, this business with Vah Medoh gnaws at him more than any other. I pray he and my people are whole and unharmed when I return.”

Link was sorely tempted to ask why Kass did not return rather than humor a Hylian on the other side of Hyrule. Yet the Rito had yet to ask the nature of Link’s own venture to Death Mountain, an omission that had to be intentional.

“Seeing as you are clearly drawn to the notion of Divine Beasts and Champions,” Kass said suddenly, “would you care to hear a portion of my ballad concerning the Hero and the Calamity? It is, of course, based on the tale of ten thousand years ago, one known to precious few today.”

“I would love to hear it,” Link gladly allowed, “but why only a portion?”

“It is a rather long composition,” Kass admitted while retrieving the carefully packed accordion from its case. “By saving some of it tonight, we earn a second helping for another day, something we did not accomplish with our supper.”

Link laughed agreeably as the Rito flexed the instrument out and in with a flourish. The resulting sound was nothing short of grandiose, an introduction into a hauntingly beautiful rendition the likes of which Link could not remember hearing before. Kass’ eyes were closed in solemn devotion to his vocal offering, which carried high and strong in the windless night air.

_In the kingdom of Hyrule, a vast and storied land_

_Oft grasped in the palm of a villainous hand,_

_A dark force of destruction many times undone_

_Rises once again - Ganon, the calamitous one._

_But hope survives, for all is not lost!_

_Two brave souls protect Hyrule, no matter the cost._

_A goddess-blood princess and a fearless knight,_

_They appear in each age to fight the good fight._

_Their battle with Ganon I've committed to song,_

_To keep it through time, no matter how long._

_Now begins the second verse, listen and you'll know_

_Of their battle with Ganon ten millennia ago._

_The kingdom of Hyrule was a land of lasting peace /_

_A culture of such strength and wit that suffering did cease._

_But far beneath lurked Ganon, strengthening its jaws /_

_So Hyrule’s elders commenced a wondrous cause._

_Their efforts bore fruit in all its due course_

_In the form of an army, a metal-made force._

_Four giant behemoths whose power never ceased,_

_Each of these titans was called "Divine Beast."_

_And free-willed machines that hunted their prey /_

_These Guardians also were built for the fray._

_To guide the beasts in battle, warriors were needed,_

_Thus four Champions were pledged to see Ganon defeated._

_So it was that Divine Beasts, Champions, princess, and knight,_

_Joined forces to prevent Hyrule succumbing to night._

_And when Calamity Ganon finally chose to appear, /_

_Hyrule’s champions stood against it without doubt, without fear._

_Ganon unleashed its assault with hate everborn,_

_It gnashed and thrashed to see our fair homeland torn._

_Yet the Guardians kept our heroes safe through the hour..._

_The Divine Beasts’ attacks weakened Ganon's power._

_With his sword our hero did mete out a mortal blow,_

_And the princess with holy power sealed Ganon, ‘tis so!_

_And that is the story of Hyrule’s immortal foe,_   
_And how Hyrule did rise ‘gainst him ten millennia ago._

The final note from both orator and instrument rose in triumphant beauty, fading only until the happy ending had been done utter justice. Link did not applaud this time. He simply absorbed the power of the performance, his heart burning with the ebbs and flows of the great tale. His predecessor’s victory rang within him, infusing hope that lifted duty’s oppressive weight.

“A moving tale,” Link said appreciatively. “Made more so by your gift, my friend.”

“T’be sure, twas a gran’ performance, m’lord. A gran’ performance indeed!”

In a flash, Link was on his feet and whirled about to face the source of the unexpected praise. Kass was scarcely behind him, his blade out only an instant later than Link’s.

The newcomer immediately raised gloved hands to show he was unarmed.

“Peace, m’lords! Kilton means ye no harm nor hurt, fortune favor me he doesn’t!”

Link lowered his sword and took in their odd visitor. Heavy garb from knee-high boots to a hooded cloak hid all but the man’s face, which was unlike any Link had seen before. A solitary tuft of white hair swirled up from a wrinkled forehead, matched by an equally white and stringy goatee. His skin was darkly and heavily splotched, which contrasted greatly with red-painted lips and alarmingly round eyes. All in all, he was the strangest-looking Hylian Link had met since awakening.

“You startled us, sir,” Kass good-naturedly admitted as he sheathed his sword. “Forgive us if we returned the favor with our greeting.”

“Forgiven and forgotten, good lord,” Kilton gushed with a dramatic bow. “Your fire’s kindly light did beckon in these dangerous Akkala nights, fortune favor me it did.”

Link returned his own blade to the sheath on his back, satisfied this eccentric stranger posed no threat.

“There is no crime in seeking safety,” Link reassured him with a gesture toward the fire. “What brings you to these parts, master…?”

“Kilton, m’lord!” the newcomer repeated. “A simple traveler I am, though unwanted more than most until fortune favored me with the two good lords before me.”

“We are no lords,” Link corrected him kindly, “but travelers like yourself. Please, help yourself to what remains of our meal.”

Kilton needed no second bidding. He seized the remaining fish with both hands and began devouring it at an alarming rate. Link was startled to see needle-like teeth in place of a normal man’s, adding to Kilton’s carnivorous appearance.

“So… ah, where are you bound, master Kilton?” Kass asked hesitantly. Clearly he, too, was somewhat off-put by their visitor’s disquieting impression.

“Mmphf… the Eastern Akkala Stable, m’lord,” Kilton answered between mouthfuls. “Only safe place in these parts.”

“Indeed it is,” Kass replied knowingly. “We journey there ourselves.”

Kilton’s startlingly large eyes lifted above what remained of his repast as he openly eyed his two hosts.

“S’funny… I didn’t see neither o’ yous cross the Akkala Span, an’ I was waitin’ days to cross. If yeh didn’t come from the west, where are yeh comin’ from?”

Link’s eyes hardened immediately, his suspicions aroused for more than one reason. Kilton’s accent had changed completely, his flowery speech replaced by open aggression. More alarming was his observation. Link had no desire to share his reasons for nor means of reaching Akkala with this unsettling character. Luckily, Kass readily intervened.

“You have no doubt surmised that I am a minstrel, a trade made easier thanks to these ragged wings of mine,” the Rito said smoothly. “My friend Lars here hails from near the Ulria Grotto. We chanced upon meeting one another and decided to journey together in safety.”

Link had no idea where or what the Ulria Grotto was, but he trusted the well-learned Rito’s quick thinking. Kilton studied Kass for a moment before a smile bloomed to life on his offsetting features.

“Sure as the fates ‘tis a fine tale of companionship,” Kilton wheedled and nodded. “Friends banding t’gether for safety in these per’lous times. Marvelous. Marvelous.”

Their guest then turned and began rummaging furiously through the brown sack tied over his shoulder. Link and Kass risked sidelong glances at one another, clearly unsure as to their newcomer’s erratic behavior.

Finally, Kilton emerged with a pair of clear flasks, each containing a purple liquid that Link could only assume was wine. The pear-shaped man used a gloved hand to remove the stoppers, swilled the flasks, sniffed them appreciatively and proffered them to his hosts.

“Here you are, m’lords!” Kilton exclaimed. “A proper drink for a proper toast! To you, good sirs, the embodiment of friendship and welcome!”

Hylian and Rito hesitantly took a flask each. Kass’ neck feathers ruffled greatly upon hovering his beak over the drink. Link discovered why an instant later. The acrid odor nearly burned his nose, all but promising a bitter flavor.

“Come, come, m’lords!” Kilton gaily encouraged them. “‘Tis strong, to be sure, but ‘twil greatly lift your spirits! A more fitting drink there isn’t in all of Hyrule, I promise you!”

Link reluctantly brought the flask to his lips. He had no doubt he would dislike the refreshment, but Kilton seemed desperately eager for them to accept--

Link lowered the flask — a fine flask of glass filled and prepared by a man who had entered their camp without a morsel of food to call his own. The same fang-like teeth that had devoured their hosts’ meal now hooked over his bottom lip, sucking eagerly in anticipation of… of what?

“I think I will pass,” Link said slowly as he set the flask on the ground.

Kass, who had nearly taken a draft already, seemed to note Link’s quiet resolution. 

“Yes, I too will refrain,” the Rito agreed, albeit with a greater attempt at kind refusal than Link had offered. “I find wine taken this late does me little good when traveling the next morning. Thank you, sir, for the generous offer.”

Kilton looked from one companion to the other, his overly large eyes trying to match the smile plastered on his unsightly features. Link detected, however, a tightening around the corners of the mouth, followed by an unsteady licking of red-painted lips.

“Surely…,” Kilton began breathily, “Surely m’lords would not refuse the humble gift of one who is in their debt? Poor Kilton only seeks to repay their kindness, fortune favor me he does.”

The man was almost panting with a desire Link did not understand, nor did he want to. Instinct within shrieked one simple fact: Kilton was dangerous.

“You may pay your debt by taking your leave,” Link cut in coldly as he stood, right hand reaching for the hilt over his shoulder. “Leave and do not come to us again. You will be far less welcome if you do.”

Kilton’s eyes grew even wider, their whites sickeningly large compared to the small, dark irises they contained. Then his face contorted. Bushy eyebrows contracted in anger. Nostrils flared and his fang-filled mouth opened in a snarl.

Whatever Kilton had been on the verge of saying or doing was cut short by the hiss of Link’s sword leaving its scabbard. Its pointed end hovered no more than a span from the now unwelcome visitor’s eyes. Kass was scarcely behind him, his own Rito blade drawn and yellow eyes burning with more than the firelight’s reflection. A face rendered hideous with hatred and loathing greeted the pair’s stand.

“Hinox filth!” Kilton spat. “Yer right fools, yew are! Yew’ll beg me to gut yer afore I’m done with yew!”

“Do not tempt me to gut you now,” Link returned sharply. “Leave, before I relieve you of the opportunity.”

Kilton scrambled to retrieve the unsampled flasks, taking extra care to re-stopper and pack them away before darting away from the camp and into the darkness.

Link and Kass waited several moments before finally sheathing their swords. The pair looked at one another, relieved the tense encounter had passed but unsure as to its meaning.

“What do you suppose he wanted, Kass?” Link asked, thinking that perhaps his well-traveled friend might know something he did not. To his disappointment, the Rito merely shook his heavy beak.

“I do not know, Link,” Kass admitted, “but I’d wager that was not wine of the vine he offered us. Perhaps a woebegone bandit, trying to poison us in hopes of easy spoils?”

“Perhaps,” Link said, unconvinced. “Whatever his actions or the intent behind them, I would not see them accomplished at our expense.”

“Amen to that, my friend,” Kass breathed as he ruffled his feathers once more. “I dare say I’d like to take first watch tonight. I’ve no hope of sleeping so soon after seeing that ruffian up close -- or smelling that vile concoction. Get some rest, Link. I will wake you for second watch.”

Link thanked the Rito for the offer, then set about making his pallet for the night. Even after settling in, he found it difficult to reconcile Kilton’s twisted features and open contempt. What had he wanted with them?


	5. A Fairy's Fee

Though they took turns taking watch that night, neither Kass nor Link saw any sign of Kilton attempting to make good on his threat, for which both were grateful. The confrontation had left the duo feeling ill at ease, serving as a reminder of the all-but-lawless land in which they traveled.

It did not take long for previous night’s concern to give way to the new day’s task. Though he had already given his word, Kass was not eager to guide Link to the fairy whose help he required.

“I must be frank, Link,” the Rito began as he shouldered the last of his belongings and the pair set out, “if I thought there was another way for you to reach Goron City, I would have you take it. Dorephan was not keen to share his knowledge of the Great Fairy with me, and if something troubles as great a Zora as he, it is not to be taken lightly.”

“I have no intention of brushing aside Dorephan’s caution, nor yours, my friend,” Link said grimly as he buckled his sword belt across his chest. “If it is within my power to pay this fairy’s price, I will. At the very least, I know the limits of her request. She cannot ask me for what I do not have.”

“That is true,” Kass said warningly, “but she can remind you of those things you treasure most.”

“How could I need reminding of such things if I already treasure them?” Link asked dubiously.

“Simply because you will have never considered selling them,” Kass softly answered. “That is the pain of the decision she will force upon you -- for she knows the need of the seeker is great, and he or she comes prepared to give almost anything to see it fulfilled. It is the ‘almost’ she tests, and with a pleasure that, in its own way, is as cruel as a Ganonspawn’s.”

Link went silent at the Rito’s poignant warning. What did he treasure that the fairy would desire? His sword? True, it was a stout blade, but one more or less easily replaced. Going weaponless until they reached the stable would be uncomfortable, even dangerous, but hardly heart-rending.

The Sheikah Slate? That payment would be harder to meet. Its map of Hyrule was more than useful to one who had forgotten it. More importantly, its ability to travel to the Sheikah’s ancient shrines and towers would be of immense value as he rallied Hyrule for its ultimate assault against Ganon. Did he dare part with a tool left specifically to aid him in that regard?

Link’s worried thoughts continued to circle as Kass led him across the eastern road and closer to Lake Akkala. Its tranquil surface lay far below, its northern shores ebbing against sheer walls of the higher land on which the companions now trod. The lower fens west of the lake, which lay in the overrun citadel’s shadow, were as sodden as the Lanayru Wetlands to the southwest. To his alarm, Link glimpsed the sinuous metal legs and bell-shaped body of a Guardian slowly making its way along the swamp’s edge before disappearing back into the early morning fog.

“We are not in danger so close to the citadel?” Link asked worriedly.

“Our vantage point makes them seem closer than they truly are,” Kass reassured him. “Even if they were lucky enough to spot us at this distance, they would not find us before we reach the fairy’s dwelling.”

“Ganonspawn fear her that much?” Link asked, surprised.

“The Great Fairy Mija fosters life, even if it is her own interpretation of it,” Kass explained. “Ganonspawn deal in nothing but death, and for that reason alone Mija is opposed to them. Given how powerful she is, I dare say Ganon’s minions have great reason to fear her. It is best I say no more. We enter her forest even now.”

Indeed, the Rito had no sooner spoken than the sun was blotted out by an alarmingly sudden treeline. One minute Link was surveying the lake and the land beyond, the next it was hidden by enormously twisted trees he did not recognize. Exotic flowers in full bloom hung on long vines extending from the leafy canopy, their scent heavy in the air and cloying in its thickness. Kass’ feathers dampened almost immediately, while sweat sprung to life on Link’s face and the back of his neck.

Link was about to remark on the abundance of life within the forest when he realized a flaw in his own observation: there was no trace of another living creature, human or animal, anywhere. Either that, or they were keeping themselves hidden. Link took comfort in neither possibility, for both increased his unease of whatever awaited him.

A blue-feathered wing reached out, recalling Link’s attention to his now laboring companion.

“I… will go no farther, Link,” Kass panted through the dense air. “Her abode lies not far in that direction. Go and ask. I will wait for you here.”

Link looked in the direction Kass had signaled, then back at his friend.

“I do not fear this creature, but I would sooner have you at my side,” Link said kindly. To his surprise, Kass vehemently shook his beak.

“I will not,” the Rito breathed, albeit firmly. “As I said, I learned of this fairy’s ways from Dorephan’s own tale. He was too generous in sharing it with me. I say that because such a personally painful experience should never be known by another. I would not violate your own privacy, not in the way Mija will seek to expose it.”

“What do you mean?” Link persisted, but even the question seemed difficult to ask. The air was almost stifling. His clothes felt drenched with sweat, and he wildly entertained the idea of removing them for whatever relief he could find. Maybe just my tunic?

Link shook his head. Had he voiced that sudden impulse? Feathers gripped his shoulders.

“Do not…” Kass rasped, “Do not yield, Link of Hyrule. Ask, then pay or leave.”

“I won’t,” Link replied irritably. But why was he bothered by Kass to begin with? _Because he’s talking nonsense_ , the voice within snapped back. _There’s nothing to fear here, save this blasted heat. Surely I can remove my tunic…_

Arguing with himself -- it was himself, wasn’t it? -- Link started off again in the direction Kass had pointed. He looked back once. The Rito had knelt onto the moist forest floor, his beak pointed down toward the ground. He was either praying or sleeping. _Fine. I don’t need him anyway._

The way forward emphasized that sentiment. The trees had all but retreated, arching over an open path a blind man could have traversed with ease. Flowers of brilliant white and rich gold adorned their vines and trunks, while the floor itself was bedecked with autumn’s richest offerings. Surely, this was the most beautiful place in all of Hyrule. _I could stay here forever_ , Link thought. At least, he thought it was him.

Then the path opened onto a scene that made the previous seem a pittance. Dozens of sprites no bigger than Link’s hand flitted about in lethargic beauty. Link could just make out heads, arms and legs outside their glow, but those were more than enough to hint at grace no mortal could ever achieve. Those not flying rested on open flowers or large leaves unfurled from the surrounding trees.

The small creatures seemed to show no surprise at his coming. Roughly a dozen floated near him, tinkling softly as they guided him forward. Link could almost understand them, but it was like trying to remember a dream already flown. His efforts to discern their words were distracted by his destination, which could only be what lay at the grove’s center.

From a bed of oversized fronds rose an enormous flower bud the size of a house. Its green petals, still tightly closed, were adorned with large red thorns that appeared as sharp as any spear. Mushrooms far larger than normal formed a stairway up to the top of an immense toadstool. The entire setting was, in its own wild way, as grandiose as any audience chamber.

Link allowed the fairies to guide him up the mushroom rise. Then the sprites dispersed to the edge of the grove, as though eager for a full view of what was about to transpire.

The bud shuddered. From within both it and Link’s mind sounded a female voice.

_“Sweet boy.”_

The words did not matter to Link nearly as much as their tone, which was low and longing. She sounded as though she were on the verge of something wonderful, and Link found himself wanting desperately to help her find it.

_“Do you come to my spring in hopes of remaining? Do you wish to be at my side until time itself is spent and all that remains is our… legacy?”_

Link’s blood burned, and he very nearly cried out “yes” to satisfy the voice as only he could. Surely no other could perform such a duty as he.

_“Do not yield, Link of Hyrule.”_

Kass’ words fought to penetrate the thick fog that wrapped Link’s mind. Part of him -- most of him -- wanted to swat them away like the annoying bitemes they were. _It is a miracle there are no insects in this place_ , Link thought waspishly. _I should take off my tunic_.

The sprites observing from the edge of the glade fluttered slightly upon seeing Link unbuckle his sword belt. He did not even look when the sheathed blade and belt clattered to the leafy floor. His hands reached for the collar of his tunic… and grasped the Zora scale pendant resting just beneath.

Like a bucket of ice water, a cold washed over Link and left him shivering in the previously stifling copse. The sweat beading his body left immediately, and he was suddenly very aware of the question that had now been hanging in the air for moments.

“No, I have not,” Link declared loudly, if still somewhat shaken. He pulled his hands away from his collar, and the sprites around him seemed to wilt in disappointment. “I come to ask for help, if it can be given.”

The flower bud shuddered again, then opened. Magnificent petals revealed bright blue interiors edged in gold. Pistils of gold emitted a soft dust of the same color, and Link could feel the powder try to submerge his mind in thoughtless pleasure once more.

That was nothing, however, to the creature that emerged from the bud’s center. She was large, larger even than a fully grown Zora. Jewels formed her only garments, and they scarcely served as that much. Clusters of tear-shaped diamonds left the minimum of her ample breasts and curved waist to the imagination. Her hair spilled over her naked back in waves of vibrant purple, matched only by paint of the same color on her lips and equally strong turquoise on her eyelids.

Link felt his skin flush and blood race at the sight of her, and he once again grasped Mipha’s pendant to focus on the task at hand. Oddly enough, the fairy seemed to note the gesture and interpret its intention.

“A pity,” Mija replied with a sultry pout. “You are small, but strong. Young. Healthy. Vigorous. I would have enjoyed you -- and you me, to be sure.”

“I do not come for enjoyment, fairy!” Link shouted, as much to himself as at her. He was not sure what was worse -- that she was praising him as a farmer would his stock or that whatever spell she was trying to cast was making him enjoy it. “I need the means to survive Death Mountain’s fire as well as any Goron! Can you provide it?”

“So quickly to business?” Mija asked, as she tilted her head. Then her painted eyes widened, enhancing the alluring effect of her gaze. “Aaahh, I see. So you come to us again, do you, Link of Hyrule? Does Ganon’s shadow truly enshroud us once more?”

“What do you mean, again?” Link demanded. “I have no memory of you or any fairy.”

“So you don’t,” Mija agreed as she closed her eyes. “Mmm...no memory of me or much else. My, but this one of you with the Zora girl is a tasty morsel…”

Link was sorely tempted to retrieve his sword from the ground, but was loath to incite this creature’s wrath. If she could see his mind, what else was she capable of doing at her leisure? Link stamped down the part of him that clamored to find out.

"What does this have to do with why I have come?” he challenged. Mija, who had been licking her lips as though savoring whatever she was seeing, abruptly opened her eyes.

“Why, everything,” the fairy returned languorously. “Even had you all your memories, you would recall nothing of me. No, I refer to your previous incarnations, Hero of Hyrule. Always, you have sought my people’s help when evil manifest nears its return. Why, once one of my little sisters even accompanied you. That was long ago.”

Mija closed her eyes once more and bit her lip.

“On one of your sojourns you were especially forthcoming to a sister of mine,” she breathed, her lips parting as though in anticipation. “How I wish I had been her.”

“Enough!” Link gasped. The fingers of his right hand were now firmly wrapped around the silver pendant, exacting every ounce of will they could to combat the fever threatening to overcome him. “I care not for ages past nor their actions! Help me ascend Death Mountain, or I will seek another way!”

Mija’s vivid eyes opened once more, and her painted lips slowly spread into a smile.

“Oh, there is no other way,” the fairy crooned. “You discovered other means to scale Dinraal’s domain in the past, true, but those were temporary, long since destroyed. No, I am afraid I am your only path this time, Link of Hyrule. But worry not. I will supply you with what you need. I would sooner see you made a woman than see Ganon triumphant.”

“Thank you,” Link sighed, relieved for more than one reason. Mija’s eyes had turned a vivid shade of red upon mentioning Ganon. Clearly, she was on his side, if only after a fashion.

“Not so fast, little hero,” Mija laughed. “We have yet to discuss the matter of payment. I am sure Dorephan told you, my gifts are hardly free.”

“Dorephan told me nothing,” Link said cautiously. Whatever indignity he must suffer at the hands of this creature, he would not let it taint his friends.

“Didn’t he?” the fairy said lightly, as though amused. “Perhaps he was embarrassed. I don’t know why he would be. Any father would want his daughter returned to her, I would think.”

Link’s breath caught, his neck tightening with rage at this imp so callously referencing Mipha’s death. His hand gripped the silver pendant until his knuckles were white. 

“You would take advantage of him, knowing what he lost?” Link demanded. “Mipha died trying to stop the very thing you yourself claim to oppose.”

“On the contrary,” Mija corrected him, tilting her head as though confused by Link’s anger, “I thought I was rather generous with my counteroffer. Dorephan wanted his daughter returned to him. I simply asked for his son in exchange.”

Link’s vision swam, rage nearly robbing him of his senses. The fairy’s smile seemed to deepen, as though she found amusement in Link’s fury. Mija was no longer intoxicating. She was revolting.

“How could you possibly confuse cruelty for generosity?” Link rasped.

“Cruel?” Mija repeated innocently. “I offered him Mipha’s life without exacting that of Sidon. He would live, you see -- with me, of course.”

The fairy’s gaze shifted away from Link, gazing afar at something only she could see.

“I knew the strong bull he would become,” she said caressingly. “It would have been magnificent. _He_ would have been magnificent, and, of course, I would reward him thoroughly with my own… gifts.”

The fairy’s falsely embarrassed laugh only emphasized her barely restrained bosom, but this time Link’s blood ran cold. Kass’ warning rang clearly in his memory. 

_“... she knows the need of the seeker is great, and he or she comes prepared to give almost anything to see it fulfilled. It is the ‘almost’ she tests, and with a pleasure that, in its own way, is as cruel as a Ganonspawn’s.”_

Mija’s eyes immediately refocused on Link. They were longer seductive. Anger creased their corners, and red began swirling within the dark irises.

“That is twice you have dubbed me cruel in my presence,” Mija said coldly. “Take care that you do not insult me again, else I may add your Rito friend’s life to the balance of your request.”

Link swallowed hard as he tried desperately to clear his mind. Half-formed thoughts of fear regarding Mija’s omniscience were the last to be pushed away, and only just at that.

“Much better,” the fairy said approvingly. “You cannot expect to ask favors and offer insults at the same time. It’s rude.”

Link said nothing and did his best to think as much. Mija almost looked disappointed.

“As I said, it is a pity,” the fairy observed petulantly. “I can only assume it is a fault of the spirit, for you have always been this way, hero of Hyrule. Very well. As I said, I will grant you the magical means to withstand Death Mountain’s wrath -- for a fee.”

“And what fee is that?” Link asked warily.

“Oh, something that lies near and dear to your heart,” Mija said gaily. “ _Very_ near your heart. Nearly on top of it, actually.”

At first, Link did not understand. “Near my heart?” he murmured as his hand wandered to his chest… and rediscovered the pendant.

“No!” Link snarled, his rage rekindled to a blind inferno. “Even you would not be so harsh as to demand this for payment -- as if you truly wanted it to begin with!”

“Ah, but I do,” Mija replied lazily. “The magical scale of one of Hylia’s servants? Such a prize is highly desirable, and short in supply, I might add. Surely a mere object is but a candle to Hyrule’s survival?”

“I could ask the same of you,” Link returned desperately. “Would you exact this from me knowing what I face and the consequences if I fail? You know why this was made and how it came to me.”

“I know more of it than that,” Mija said smugly. “Did Dorephan truly not tell you? Or perhaps he did not know?”

“Enough riddles!” Link roared. How could this creature make light of the sacrifice she asked of him? “Why do you want the scale?”

“Temper, temper,” Mija tisked, albeit with a small flare of red briefly appearing in her eyes. “I am surprised you have not realized its value within these last few moments. Surely you noticed my… influence lessened the moment you touched the pendant?”

Link’s jaw hung agape, wondering at what now seemed obvious. He recalled the wounds he suffered aboard Vah Ruta — and how quickly they had improved overnight. Link’s fingers convulsed against the pendant as though to ward off any attempt Mija might use to further prove her point.

“Mipha’s scale… protects me?”

“Heals would be the more appropriate term,” the fairy corrected him. “That was her gift, after all. She was quite skilled, particularly for a mortal. I must admit she was at least part of the reason so few came to see me in those days. People simply won’t pay for what they can have for free, not knowing they miss out on knowing themselves better than they otherwise would.”

“I already know what this means to me,” Link said quietly. “Yet you demand it just the same.”

“Because it is the very thing you are unwilling to pay,” Mija said simply. For the first time, Link felt she was not toying or flirting with him. The dark-lashed eyes gazed at him with sad honesty. “By bringing such things to the attention of those who come to me, I help them see their own sickness. All too often they assume to gain much while giving little in return.”

 _Have I not given enough already?_ Link thought desperately. He was not completely surprised when the fairy answered his unspoken plea.

“Like so many in this world, you feel only you can accurately measure your sacrifices,” Mija said disapprovingly, her arms now crossed under her ample bosom. “In truth, you are the least qualified to do so. So you tell me, hero of Hyrule -- is the trinket of a dead girl worth restoring the kingdom she died to save?”

Link’s hand was still clenched, the pendant now warm against his palm. In a very real way, it had become part of him in the short time since acquiring it. The token of Mipha’s love, of her desire to marry him, had restored one of the most precious parts of his past. More than that, even. As a means of healing him from sword and spell alike, it was as if Mipha had found a way, even in death, to extend her healing hands to him once more.

Now, to be asked to pawn it away so soon after gaining it…

“I… I need time,” Link swallowed, pushing down the rising bile in his throat.

“A maybe is worse than the answer you must ultimately give,” Mija said knowingly. “It extends hope’s withering flower for but a little while, and its passing is all the uglier for it. Take your time, hero, but know that my price will not change.”

“I… I understand,” Link nodded. His voice did not feel like his own. His heart was stone.

“Very well,” Mija said as she gazed one last time upon her audience, though what she considered Link neither knew nor cared. “Return here when you are ready -- if that moment comes.”

The great fairy of Akkala began to fade, as did her flower abode. The pixies also dissolved, until the last of their small lights winked out. The trees darkened, their flowers shriveling in a trice even as they fell to the ground. Several fell on Link’s bowed head, which shook with the strength of his silent weeping.


	6. Captive

Small white clouds scudded across the clear blue autumn sky. The wind hastening them to the northwest carried a chill, which allowed the early morning dew to remain well past dawn. Autumn was coming, its presence heralded by the gold and scarlet beginning to pepper Hyrule in eye-pleasing arrangements.

Brigo hated all of it. The scenic beauty was wasted on the impatient patrolman, for to him it was merely a symbol of time’s inexorable passing. The sky was an especially bitter point of observation, for he could only behold a small portion of it from within the hilled confines of Kakariko Village. Indeed, Brigo was beginning to detest the sheer rock walls, gentle tussocks and oval-shaped huts that had become his prison wall, ground and cell.

 _Ne’er again_ , he angrily thought to himself for the umpteenth time. _Ne’er again I’ll wonder what the bloody Sheikah do where none else can bloody see!_

The Sheikah’s ancestral home had held little, if any, interest for him since his ill-fated return from Zora’s Domain. The village was mostly empty with all but a scant few sent to reinforce the Wetlands Stable -- where Brigo should be. The thought of being held here against his will while his fellow stablemen fought all manner of Ganonspawn made the tall Hebran grit his teeth and clench his fists in frustration.

Those shaking hands were not held by any bonds. Brigo’s stork-like legs, which strode angrily through Kakariko without truly going anywhere, were not tied down to prevent him from setting out northwest with the wind. The only shackles keeping the itching patrolman in place were the piercing brown eyes of a woman a third his size.

 _Hylia take the wee crone!_ Brigo thought savagely.

There was little chance of that. Impa was the Sheikah elder, all but the goddess’s mortal right hand in Hyrule. At least, that’s what the legends said. To Brigo, she was a pint-sized halter that kept him from where he was needed most.

And for what? To whittle away precious time under the casually unrelenting watch of the few Sheikah guards that remained? They did not shadow him. They didn’t have to. If Brigo so much as approached one of the two canyon-enclosed gateposts that were both entrance and exit to the village, a pair of well armed Sheikah merely made their presence… felt. They never said a word, but as sure as his mammy when he was five years old, Brigo knew they were not letting him leave.

Such conditions would be sufferable if the patrolman knew the why behind them. True to her people’s way, Impa’s explanation had been maddeningly vague.

“We must make certain your way is safe before you proceed,” the wrinkled old bag had told him. “Until then, please enjoy Kakariko’s hospitality.”

“I’ve made meh own way safe since I was as tall as yerself, meh lady,” Brigo had replied in a perfectly good-natured tone. “I’ll be just fine makin’ meh way to Wetlands.”

“I insist,” Impa had replied just as sweetly before her clawed and bony hand snatched the Sheikah slate -- the means by which he had traveled from Zora’s Domain to Kakariko in the blink of an eye -- from his unprepared grasp. “Oh, and I must also insist on safeguarding this until you leave. I’m sure you understand.”

With that the old crone had smoothly dismounted her throne of cushions and retreated to her quarters upstairs without another word!

That was two sunrises ago. Brigo had not seen Impa since, nor had he received any word regarding his no longer imminent departure. A hut and cot in which to sleep. Food and drink. And silence. Deafening, maddening silence.

Not that the Sheikah were a noisy lot to begin with. They were great ones for keeping to themselves. Still, Brigo knew from past experience that Kakariko usually hummed with activity if it did not necessarily shout it. Now, with more Sheikah disbursed than at any time since the Great Calamity, the ancient village seemed all but abandoned.

Brigo hoped Link was faring far better than he. _Why shouldn’t the lad?_ he thought resentfully. _Man of action, ain’t ‘e? Link says jump an’ everyone else salutes an’ says ‘right yeh are, our great sword-swingin’ Champion o’ Hyrule!’_

The patrolman had been heartened to see his young friend during his brief visit to Zora’s Domain. Link had seemed far less forlorn than when they had first met, though still as dead-set on deed-doing as ever. Brigo couldn’t imagine what the lad’s body and mind must have endured in life and Sheikah-induced sleep, but he appeared to be handling his absurd burden well.

Then there were the Zora whose company Brigo had just quitted. Impressive types. The Ganonspawn at the wetlands were in for a nasty shock when Dorephan’s people reinforced the stable. Each Zora was twice the height of a Hylian and armed to the teeth, while their king looked as though he could crush a fully grown lizalfo in one hand.

The satisfying image only emphasized Brigo’s own inaction. In a fit of restless rage, the patrolman kicked a wooden post that formed part of a swine enclosure. Unlike Brigo’s booted toes, the stout pole did not yield. Hebran-accented curses shattered Kakariko’s normally undisturbed tranquility.

“Yours could very well be the first profanity to grace Kakariko’s otherwise unsullied air.”

Brigo whirled about to behold the object of his frustration. From her Sheikah sigil straw hat to the loose white-and-red robes clothing her person, Impa appeared unchanged from their previous encounter. The same held true for her wrinkled face and tired eyes, though the latter still boasted a sharpness that would have put Brigo’s mammy to shame. They cooled some of the anger he had stoked to fiery life within him. Some of it.

“Weel I’m glad yeh’ve deigned to notice the lowly stableman in yer midst!” Brigo added a mocking bow to match his introduction. He tried to ignore the imaginary cuff his father would have given him for his cheek. “Fer a moment there I thought yeh’d gone an’ meditated yerself into fergettin’ why yeh kept me in yer ruddy town in the first place!”

“I forget nothing, Master Brigo,” Impa returned coolly, “least of all one of the few friends left to the Champion of Hyrule. You will forgive me if I value your life enough to resist discarding it mere moments after you miraculously return to us.”

“Of course, yer ladyship!” False sincerity positively dripped from Brigo’s voice. He now understood why Link’s patience had run so short with the woman. “‘Tis out o’ the goodness o’ yer heart I’m kept here aginst meh will while meh countrymen are dyin’! ‘Ow could I not ‘ave seen as much? Now that yeh’ve had meh swaddled tight and tied to yer apron strings fer a stretch, do I git to toddle outta here, then?”

A small smile played on the Sheikah elder’s wrinkled features.

“Would that I could ask your equerry to see you swaddled and tied so,” Impa said in something dangerously close to a chuckle. “It might teach you the manners you have so clearly abandoned.”

“Rensa might just try if yeh ask ‘im,” Brigo admitted. “He’s keen on respectin’ yer people, e’en if he’s got his own reasons to mistrust yeh.”

“Rensa is no longer in a position to consider my requests,” Impa replied with a surprising note of heaviness. “I received word more than a fortnight ago that your equerry was slain.”

Brigo’s breath hissed inward sharply. He was no stranger to death even among friends, but Rensa had been one of the most solid and capable equerries he had known since joining Hyrule’s last remaining shred of law and order.

“Hylia rest his soul,” the stableman muttered before asking aloud, “I suppose ‘is brother took it hard. Near attached at the hip as men as they were, an' since birth at that.”

“Now they are joined in death,” Impa added smoothly. “Tassaren met the same fate on the same day -- as they returned from Hateno to the Dueling Peaks Stable.”

“An’ yeh thought to sit on the news until now?” Brigo angrily asked. He actually took a step toward the Sheikah elder, only to notice the sudden and extremely close appearance of two armed women. Neither had drawn her weapon, but their eyes were narrowed slits of suspicion aimed at the man accosting their leader. The patrolman drew no closer, but neither did he blunt the severity of his expression. _I do be done be playin’ Sheikah games an’ riddles!_

Impa, however, did not appear troubled by the patrolman’s words or tone.

“Any death is a waste, but I found theirs especially troublesome,” the old woman graciously admitted. “I had been led to believe that those few Ganonspawn that survived Hateno had fled the area entirely. Clearly, that was not the case.”

“Dorian said they’d scarpered,” Brigo recalled suddenly. “The lad could no find hide nor hair o’ the beasts.”

“All the more surprising then,” Impa said as she removed a well-creased and folded parchment from within her robes, “to hear the opposite from Dueling Peaks’s new equerry.”

Brigo snatched the note from the Sheikah’s venerable and wrinkled hand, then quickly unfolded and read its contents.

_Sheikah,_

_We regret to inform you our forces are needed to cleanse the Bubinga and Hickaly forests of the Ganonspawn infesting those regions. Until then, we will be unable to provide aid or assistance to your village or its people._

_Equerry_   
_Dueling Peaks Stable_

“Any wally with a quill an’ parchment could’ve written this rubbish!” Brigo snorted in disbelief.

“Which is why I sent one of my people to ascertain the truth of it,” Impa returned, and this time she sounded truly troubled. “He did not return.”

Brigo’s considerable eyebrows contracted sharply. Sheikah went unseen by choice. They did not go missing. _What the bloody hell is goin’ on?_

“So yeh’ve no idea who this barmy new equerry is?” Brigo asked aloud. “It can no be a stranger. I’ve been there over ten years an’ I know near everyone in the Necluda.”

“For once, I know less than most,” Impa ruefully admitted as she refolded the letter. “We received this missive after requesting the stable join us in aiding the Wetlands. No patrolmen — or tradesmen for that matter — have frequented Kakariko since.

“So yeh weren’t stringin’ me along like some ruddy carp,” Brigo muttered while somewhat abashedly rubbing the back of his neck. The Sheikah elder smiled at his humble show of understanding.

“As much as you yearn to join your countrymen at Wetlands, I find myself in need of your services at your home stable,” Impa explained while motioning for Brigo to follow her toward the eastern edge of the village. “What few Sheikah remain have ascertained that no immediate danger awaits on the path to Dueling Peaks. They will ensure your safety — from a distance — when you return today.”

“Got it all planned beforehand, haven’t yeh?” Brigo wryly observed as they drew near a small stable. A horse well-laden with his own overlarge pack of supplies and spear stood ready and waiting.

“It is usually more efficient this way, yes,” Impa replied even more dryly. Then the ancient woman withdrew something else from within her robes — the Sheikah slate Brigo had reluctantly inherited from Purah in Hateno. Impa held onto it just as the patrolman began to receive it, her ages eyes locking into Brigo’s.

“I do not know what awaits you at Dueling Peaks,” Impa warned, “but its portent is not good. Take care that you do not risk your life needlessly. I fear Link may yet need you before the end. Inform me of what ails the stable, then return to his side.”

“Dunno why yer frettin’ for the lad,” Brigo said offhandedly as he swung up onto the piebald mare. “Link’s a ruddy living legend, after all.”

Impa smiled at the remark, but Brigo could not miss the sincerity behind her reply.

“Even legends — be they swordsmen or Sheikah — need the help of others.”

 _The old bag’s got a point_ , Brigo reflected. _I’ve already pulled Link’s fat out o’ the fire. Can’t be all bad havin’ a ruddy Champion owin’ me -- or a Sheikah fer that matter._

“I’ll see what’s got the equerry’s hat in a twist,” Brigo said aloud with a small bow of respect. The old crone’s concerns hadn’t proven completely addled, after all. He could almost forgive her for leaving him to twiddle his thumbs. “‘Til then, may Hylia guard yer bonny wee steps!”

“And yours, Master Brigo,” Impa answered with a hand raised in blessing.

With two days of pent-up energy clamoring to be spent, Brigo whirled his mount and departed through Kakariko’s southern canyon at a gallop.

**Author's Note:**

> Life comes at you fast. Back-to-back shoulder surgeries, the birth of my third child and a worldwide pandemic dented my momentum in churning out Book Three. I hope this whets your appetite for what is to come. Those of you who have played BOTW may or may not recognize the Lomei reference. I am very excited for how that small nomenclature (and where it is located) wound up finding a place in this story. As for the Yiga and Gerudo, much more is on the way. Hope this crazy 2020 has been as kind as possible to all of you. - MW


End file.
